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#was looking for an excuse to draw her but then I remembered I don't need one <3
batsythoughts · 1 day
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Alright, but Bruce Wayne with 'Meet Cute' and 'Tragic Love Story' combined? I personally need to get this idea off my chest, so enjoy.
Due to his strained sleep schedule and social life, Bruce would occasionally need a pick-me-up
There was this one Cafe that he enjoyed due to how strong they were able to make the coffee compared to other shops in the city
Normally he would walk in and the employees would start working on his order before he even got to the counter
One day, he was grabbing his cup from the counter when he noticed something unusual on the sleeve of the cup
Holding the cup closer to his face, he takes in the sight of a multicolor butterfly that was 'flying' across the cup sleeve
He turned to the manager with a raised brow, to which the manager looks over at one of the employees at the other end of the counter with an annoyed gaze
Bruce turns his gaze to see you standing there with a handful of sharpies in your apron pocket as you look at both men with a shrug
"I got bored."
Your manager began to give a small lecture on the fact you were getting paid to do a job and doodling wasn't apart of that job
You made a face, which Bruce found slightly amusing, to your manager with crossed arms
"I come in to prep at 3 a.m. for 6 days every week, by myself might I add. I do the work that is supposed to be divided to be done by 3 people. I have to fight you to get 15 minutes out of my hour long lunch. I'm sorry you don't like that I don't actively search for more work to do when I'm already doing more than my 10 dollar an hour pay grade. If you don't like it, fire me. But don't forget that I can sue you for sexual harassment because I'm certain you forgot that the owner put had cameras installed in the freezer to safe guard the minors who work here."
Bruce felt shocked as he glared over at the manager, who was suddenly very quiet and very flustered at your words
Before Bruce was able to tear into this poor excuse of a man, a woman in a formal suit came out of the backroom with fire in her eyes
You smiled as you look from your manager to this woman, who Bruce was assuming to be the previously mentioned owner, asking oh so sweetly if you could go to your break
Bruce watched you walk out the door with a strange curiosity blooming in his mind. Despite having never paid much attention to you beforehand, but now he was wondering what more there was to you
The next couple of weeks, Bruce found himself coming to the Cafe more often in the mornings to interact with you more and to see more of your doodles on his morning coffee cup
He was even subconsciously going to the block on his patrols to make sure you were getting into the shop alright on the days when you opened alone
Eventually, the habits were beginning to get noticed by everyone around him. Tim and Damian noticed he was a bit more cheerful in the mornings when they were taken to school. Jason realized the determination that Bruce put in at 2:57 every night on one block specifically. They were all clueless until Dick, Cass, and Stephanie started rummaging through his office and found the original cup sleeve placed in the back of one of his desk drawers
The next day when Bruce was going to be busy with a meeting with a few shareholders, Dick and Barbara came walking into the Cafe with huge grins on their faces
When they made their way to the front of the line and ordered, they excitedly asked for the barista that was drawing the cup sleeves
When they were pointed to your direction, they went over and started to explain that Bruce had found you interesting and they thought he would want to get to know you better if he could
Barbara pulled up a picture of Bruce in case you didn't quiet remember him. But you smile with a small nod saying the you remembered him from the incident with the old manager
Dick got even more excited as he asked if you would be willing to maybe, potentially, want to go out with Bruce for a date because they bet that he found you cute and was scared to get rejected
Later that day when Bruce had finally gotten home, Dick and Barbara were waiting by the door as they practically were jumping in their spots
They held out a coffee cup to Bruce, which made him feel anxious that they had found out about his small infatuation
He took the cup to see a small drawing of a ticket with a box of popcorn. He saw your name with a phone number with a a simple question. 'Movie on Tuesday?'
Bruce doesn't have time to scold or thank them before they ran off in the manor
He went to his office, closing and locking the door before taking out his phone to send you a quick message about what you might want to watch
He began to think it might have been a bad idea as he started to type that he had the wrong number when he saw a response suddenly pop up
You had confirmed the movie and time that might work with both of your schedules to go watch it
Bruce quickly double checked his schedule before confirming that it worked out for him and suggested to meet up there, he wanted you to feel like you could leave if you ever wanted to during the whole thing
As the day came closer, Bruce felt concerned for the date and if it would be best to back out and spare potential heart ache down the road
But he fought down his worries as he dressed down in casual clothing so he wouldn't be noticed
After getting a pep talk from almost every one of the Bat children, Bruce finally drove to the theater with a few minutes before the meet up time
He was slightly shocked to see you actually standing in front and waiting for him out front in your own style of formally casual clothes
He got out of the car and walked up to you with a slightly awkward confidence with his greeting. The man may have the ability to charm almost any person on a whim, but it was different this time. This time, he was genuinely interested in the person in front of him
The smile you gave Bruce when he walks up warms his heart in a way he hadn't felt in some time
He paid for the tickets and tried to pay for the snacks, but you insisted that you didn't want him to pay for the whole thing
"It's just popcorn and drinks. I've got it this time."
This time. The words had Bruce feeling hopeful for the next date even though this one wasn't even over
Getting settled into the seats, you two delve into light conversation, the occasional laugh slipping in
By the time the lights went down for the movie to start, Bruce had already considered this to be a successful date with how much he felt you two had bonded
The theater was quiet as the movie played, the screen casting a soft glow over all the faces there
Bruce had felt himself truly relaxing for the first time in so long as he sat next to you in the partially full theater
He almost jumped when he felt you suddenly lean into his side halfway through the movie
But he relax before moving his arm around your shoulders as he glanced over to see if it was alright
The small smile on your face as you leaned closer to Bruce made a small flutter to form in his stomach
When the movie came to an end, Bruce kept his arm around your shoulders as everyone walked out into the parking lot
There was small talk about thoughts on the movie before the goodbyes had to be said for the night
He was questioning himself on if a hug would be the best to do or if that would be too forward
You beat him to it as you gave him a small peck to him cheek before saying you would text him to let him know you got home safe
Bruce couldn't help but smile as he drove back to the manor. Completely forgetting about the small army of children that would interrogate him the moment the door opened
He got bombarded with different types of questions from 'did you have a good time', 'what are they like', 'are you going out again soon'
Damian mostly just listened while standing there before he asked if there was a photo of his father's potential consort. Dick says he's got one to show him later
(Bruce makes a mental note to talk to the Damian about appropriate terms to use in relationships and to get the photo Dick has)
Bruce quickly told all of them to go and get ready for patrol as he pushed his way past the entryway
All the children smiled to themselves as the began to go to the Batcave to get their gear together with the intention of getting more information later
Bruce took a moment to breath before feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. Checking it to see that you had messaged him when you got home and couldn't wait until next time
"This one must be special if you smile at a message."
Bruce looked up at Alfred when he heard that comment, not even realizing he was smiling
Alfred had a soft look in his eyes as he gave a simple nod before walking away for Brice to be alone
Bruce typed a quick message in agreement of meeting up again sometime soon before putting his phone away to get ready for the night ahead
The next few months (yes, months because he wants to be cautious with this relationship), Bruce had tried to make plans at least once every week for dates
Each time the two of you spent time together, he couldn't deny the feeling that he got when being around you. You never tired to bring his money into it and never pushed for the pace to go faster over the course of the whole thing
He even asked if you could be official with each other relationship wise, though not entirely out on the public eye if you didn't feel comfortable with all the sudden attention, which you happily agreed to
He had finally asked if you would want to come to the manor one day to properly meet all the kids, who were all eager to get to meet you
You both agreed on a day and time to have dinner later that same week he suggested it
The night of the whole dinner, Bruce and the kids helped Alfred get the manor cleaned and even assisted in the cooking
They were all excitedly waiting in the living room dressed in their best clothes for the occasion as the time for you to get there getting closer
The moment the hour struck, everyone was on edge for the knock on the front door to come at any moment
As the minutes went by, everyone starts to get anxious as there wasn't anoise coming from outside the door
Stephanie and Barbara were trying to be hopeful by saying maybe you just had to change outfits from a last minute stain accident
Tim and Dick were saying that a family thing could have come up and maybe you were trying to get it handled before coming over
Damian had a hopeful tone as he stated that there was most likely traffic and you were just caught in the middle of it (he was really hopeful about his father finding a good partner)
Bruce gave a small smile to all of them before he decided to send you a quick text to ask if everything was alright and if you needed to reschedule for another day
Jason gave a small grunt before grabbing the remote. Turning on the TV as he said that Damian was right and the traffic news would prove it
Flipping through the channels, he finally got to the news channel. And dear God, did Jason wish he could take that decision back
Every one stared in silence as the lights flashed on the screen as they took in the sight of a terrible car crash
A reporter talked about the fact a drunk driver had blown through a 4 way stop and had hit the victim's car that was sadly just at the wrong place
The reporter had said that no name was being given about the victim so family could be informed first and make the proper medical decisions
No name had to be given though as the kid's saw the look on Bruce's face
He didn't need to be there to see that it was your car. He didn't need to get a look at the license plate to tell. He could tell just by the small little decal you had on the back window
Jason quickly turned the TV back off as they all nervously look over at Bruce as he continued to stare at the black screen
No words were said as they each moved closer to, but not touching, Bruce to show their support to him as he slowly processed the whole thing
The sound of his phone going off finally broke the fragile silence of the room. Bruce cleared his throat as he quickly picked up the phone, his hand shaking when he saw your name appear on the screen
He answered with a weak voice before he heard the woman's voice on the other line
The woman said she was your mother and slowly asked if Bruce had seen the news report. He could tell she had been crying even through the phone
She hesitated before explaining that it wasn't good and that the doctors said that after a few tests, it was declared that you were legally brain dead
Your mother chocked for a second before saying that she wanted to give Bruce a chance to say goodbye before the next steps were being taken
Bruce took a moment before saying that he would be there within the hour before hanging up the phone
He just sat there for a second as the silence blanketed the room once again
Alfred placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder before saying that he would drive to the hospital for Bruce
All the kids shared glances before getting up and going to pack away the dinner to give Bruce a minute
Bruce stood up before going to the door as Alfred followed close behind. The ride was silent as Alfred guided through the streets, intently going the long way to avoid the crash site
Bruce walked through the door before going to the reception desk to ask what room you were placed in
After getting directed to what room you were in, he saw a woman standing outside as she talked to a doctor. The woman turned her head and stopped the doctor before ushering him over
The doctor hesitantly walked away as your mother politely introduced herself before explaining the severity of the situation. That even with life support, you would probably not even survive one week with how you got hit
She said that you had talked so happily about the relationship the two of you had and believed that Bruce deserved to have his own goodbye
Bruce felt the words catch in his throat as he hesitants to ask if you would be left on life support or not
Your mom quickly explains the plan you had made for a situation like this before she glances at the room you were in. She offered to let him have the final goodbye in peace
Bruce gives a small nod as he gave her a small hug as he expressed how sorry that this had to be how they had met one another
The moment Bruce steps through the door, he feels the tears form in his eyes as he takes the sight of you laying there, basically lifeless on the bed
He walks over to the bed as his hand reaches out to touch yours
He just stands there for a minute as he stares at your face. His other hand coming up to gently brush his fingers over your cheek
He knows that there nothing he could do to potentially help make you recover. He understood this was going to be the last time that he was every going to get to lay his eyes on you
Bruce leaned down to rest his head on yours as he took a deep breath. Closing his eyes as the words finally seemed to come to him:
"I am so glad that I got to know you for the time that I did. Best thing you ever did for me was drawing on the first coffee sleeve. I'm gonna miss you and I... I love you."
He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled away. A sad smile gracing his face before walking back out of the room
He wrote his number and address on a small card before telling her that she could come to him if she needed any help
She had a weak smiled as she thanked him before giving him another small hug as she says to make him aware of all the things regarding the funeral and the burial spot
The ride back is just as quiet as the drive to the hospital. Alfred only giving a small glance towards Bruce as they drove up the driveway
Bruce walked through the door to find Dick standing there with a solemn look in his eyes. He tells Bruce that he can take the night to process everything and that he will handle the patrol
Bruce gives a weak nod as he walks through the manor and to his room so he could hopefully get some form of rest
No one had went to check on him to give him a chance to be alone with his thoughts for the night
Bruce just laid on the bed as he replayed all the moments that he had with you. A sad chuckle passing his lip before he decided to get some sleep
The next couple of weeks involved Bruce going to the funeral and going to the cemetery to put a small keepsake there to leave a part of himself there at all times with you
One day when he got back from work, Bruce was about to go to his office to sort out a few case files that he would be needing
There was a package on the desk the moment that he had walked in. He was concerned about what might potentially be in it before he saw your mother's name as the return address
Bruce carefully opened the package to see a picture frame that was carefully wrapped in some bubble wrap
He took out the frame and removed the bubble wrap to find a picture of you smiling at the camera as you jokingly point to Bruce who was behind you in the photo talking to someone off camera
Bruce remembered the day that photo was taken. It was your fourth date at the park and he was buying a snack from one of the vendors
He didn't know you had even taken any pictures that day. He stared at it for a moment before noticing a small note in the box the photo came in
He picked it up to see a small note from your mom
'I asked for a picture of the man that was making my child so happy. This was the one I was sent as I was told that he could be the one. I thought you would want it.'
Bruce stared at card for a second before a grin ghosted his lips. Setting the photo on the corner of the desk, he tucked the card in the corner
Sitting down in his chair, Bruce just admire it for a moment as he took a deep breath. Staring for a moment before getting the files that he needed together
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groguspicklejar · 4 months
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[takes place right after this]
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you were going to combust. you can feel it.
the zip ties on your legs had been cut loose. but you came to realize that it was not for your benefit. your legs had been slung over a pair of broad shoulders, toes curling on his back. Gaz worked his mouth over you, his tongue stroking firmly through your soaked folds.
the other Sergeant, a Scottish man with a mohawk and the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen, fondled your breasts and whispered the dirtiest things to you, drawing you closer to your orgasm than ever before.
the largest man, the one wearing a skull mask, watched on while Price circled your no-good husband like a shark, looking for answers. "so who else knows about the safe house?"
"i didn't tell nobody!" came his irate voice as he struggled against his restraints. you hissed sharply when the heat slinks down to the base of your spine because of having your swollen clit sucked and swirled upon by a feverish mouth.
a long moan drawls out of you, your head tipping back. delirium is starting to take over your senses. it's been building and building and for a while, they've denied your body what it needs. but now— now you think you're careening right towards the edge.
and this time, they have no intention of stopping you from hurling over.
"Soap." Price calls out, not looking away from your husband.
the Sergeant pulled his mouth away from your breast while he still played with the other. you whimpered softly, legs jerking when Gaz's fingers grazed the deepest sensitive nerve he could find inside your throbbing cunt.
"dinnae think she'll last long, Captain." he sounds as wrecked as you feel. "her legs are tremblin'."
he wasn't lying. Gaz had his arms hooked around your thighs, to keep you still. you moaned helplessly as he swirled his tongue against your clit, the fire in your belly licking at your pelvis. you catch the fondness in his eyes when you looked down to watch him, to watch the way his tongue licked through your folds.
he was so good— so fucking good at what he does. you bet they all were in different ways. but Gaz is the first to have you like this, and that is something you'll hold dearly to your heart.
you think he knows it too. when they found out that you've never had your pussy eaten, not even by your sorry excuse of a husband, he was the first to volunteer. and he took the task very seriously.
Blair fumed in his chair, trying as best as he can to kick and scream, but to no avail. the chair only makes a loud sound when it scrapes against the floor, yet he does not get anywhere beyond that. "that is my wife, goddammit!"
"doesn't look like it from my perspective, mate." Ghost muses, tilting his head. you think he's smiling underneath that mask.
"last chance." Price leans to down to look at Blair. "who else knows?"
"i don't know!"
Price sighs and goes to stand behind the restrained man, gripping his hair tightly to make him look at you.
"when she comes in his mouth," he starts, eyes trailing to your dazed expression, to the your glazed eyes as he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "we're each going to take turns with her and we're going to make her forget that she's even married." Blair hissed, eyes widening when the grip in his hair grew tighter. "and we're going to make you watch every second of it."
"hell, that's if she'll even remember your name by the time we're done with her—" Ghost cuts off when you wail, your back arching off the chair while your toes curled deliciously.
you think your head blanked. dark spots clouded your vision as the ecstasy consumed you. Gaz held fast, groaning loudly into your cunt, keeping his thumb firm on your clit while you gushed eagerly in his mouth, prolonging your pleasure. you slumped over the chair, panting deeply, when the high slowly came to a stop.
"tha's a good fuckin' girl." Soap cheered with a wicked smile.
Price chuckled. "Soap, you're first. Gaz, you're next."
"no, don't you fucking touch her—"
you were delirious and dizzy when the zip ties on your arms got cut loose. for a moment, you felt weightless, a hand cradling your head when it lolled back until you were set down on a dark surface.
someone was touching your legs, spreading you open, fingers sinking into your pulsing cunt.
"Steamin' bloody jesus, Gaz." a voice groaned. "she's fucking soaked. what did ye do tae the poor lass?"
"just a little magic trick." a chuckle followed before you were yanked further on the edge of the hard surface.
it's a desk. you were lying on a desk. your husband's desk. your eyes fluttered open to find Soap's heated stare lingering on your breasts, his cock hard and a hand cupping its base as he glides it through your slick folds. your leg instinctively curled against his hip as he pushed inside, a weak mewl escaping you.
"fuck..." his head tilts back as he drawls before he immediately starts fucking you in earnest. you don't get a chance to breathe before the next orgasm starts building up in your veins.
he's rough with you, praising you for taking him so well. places a hand on your stomach before it trails to your breasts as his thrusts hammer against your throbbing walls with a glint in his eye. he plucks your nipples, painfully pulling them, grinning when you mewl and make weak attempts to shove at his hand.
you feel it coming all too fast, your breath seizing in your lungs as the pleasure overrides your system. he fucks you harder, a howl escaping his mouth when he cums inside you. he's so mean about it too, especially when he mocks your husband.
"she's so fucking tight when she cums." he pants, grinning. "bet ye've never felt tha', have ye?"
Gaz is a little softer with you. takes his time dragging his cock in and out of you, watching your expression twist to that of pleasure. but he's just as heinous to your spouse as Soap while moans spill out of your mouth.
"you've never made her sound like that, huh?" he scoffs, chuckling with a shake of his head. he wasn't referring to your moans, but the lewd squelches of your pussy as he jerks his hips. "some husband, you are. it's fucking pathetic."
you don't know why that made you clench tightly around him, but it takes him by surprise. "oh, you like it when we talk shit about him?"
and just like that, the small comment opens Pandora's box.
"such a good little wife you are, putting up with him." he says. "he doesn't deserve a sweet cunt like yours."
Ghost makes Blair listen to every one of those insults. how his cock was only ever good for nothing. wasted on a good pussy like yours.
"aww, gonna cry?" Gaz cooed mockingly when he saw Blair's cheeks flushed red from rage and his eyes were glazed with tears.
"what a muppet." Price muttered. "poor thing needed us to save her."
Gaz makes you sit up so he could still fuck you but pressed his lips your ear, whispering for only you to hear, "he doesn't deserve you, love."
that was what tipped you over.
your breath catches in your lungs as you hold onto him, his hips stuttering when your cunt squeezes him. he floods your pussy with a muffled groan against your shoulder. your heart ached when he lays you back down and slips out of you, pressing one last kiss on your lips and handing you over to the next man.
"oh, no, ye don't." you barely had the strength to shift your gaze to find Soap angling Blair's head towards you. "keep watching them do what ye couldn't do."
Ghost walks over to you, passing by Gaz, who pats his shoulder.
"go easy on her, Ghost." he says. "she's fragile."
"noted." the masked man replies before he reaches you.
you were a little scared when you noticed how broad he is up close. he slowly parts your legs, fingers dipping inside you for a moment, a small whimper leaving your throat.
"fuckin' hell." he drones hoarsely, eyes darkening at the cum dribbling out of you. "you boys did a number on 'er."
to your surprise, he flips you over and spreads your legs. he bends one of your knees on the table
"brace yourself, love." you barely had the time to hold onto the edge of the table. a squeak bursts out of you when you feel the tip slipping inside.
oh, he's big. you breathe through your nose, your forehead pressing against the table. he pushes in slowly, drawing a strained moan from you.
when he pulls back, you're allowed a moment of respite before his hips snap. a sharp cry is heard out of you as he settles inside your cunt, humming deeply as he relishes the feeling of you.
"taking me so well, love." he begins a low pace, letting you adjust to his size. his hand grips your neck and he pulls you close, your back to his chest, making sure your husband saw every detail. "did he fuck you like this, sweetheart?"
your spine prickles with heat as his thrusts continue to increase in speed. you moaned softly, his hand squeezing your neck while the other played with your breast.
you manage to shake your head, eyes rolling back as he flicked one nipple with his fingers. "no? well, that's a damn shame."
your eyes catch a glimpse of Gaz leaning back on the couch as his hand squeezes his cock while he watches. Soap palms his cock as he was standing behind Blair, whispering something in his ear that you couldn't quite catch. but the gleam in his eye when his gaze finds yours made you whimper.
you feel Ghost's lips at your ear. "if you were mine, i'd fuck you in every position ever known to man on ever piece of furniture in sight."
you whine at the idea. of being fucked like that. of being his. of being theirs.
it makes your cunt pulsate, makes you tremble in his grasp. "oh, fuck."
his hand slides down until— your eyes squeeze shut as a shaky moan leaves your parted mouth, "ah!"
the salacious noises are all you could hear besides his grunts in your ear. his fingers swirled around your clit until you squirmed and ached, clawing at the hand at your neck.
"cum on my cock, lovie." he urges softly. "make it yours."
you think you screamed when you plummeted to the abyss. you don't know. hard to hear above the ringing in your ears, but you felt it all. Ghost gently laid you down, your breasts mushed against the expensive wooden desk and turned your head just enough for Blair to take a good long look at your dazed expression.
all the while you felt Ghost's cock plunge in and out of you at a brutal pace, making you drool all over the table until his cum bursts deep inside your pussy. some part of you felt guilty for enjoying this. yet the other part enjoyed the way your husband's face crumpled at the sight of you.
not because you were being fucked by someone other than him. but because you liked knowing he was made aware of the fact that he couldn't fuck anyone to save his own life.
"saved the best for last." you heard Ghost's voice.
you panted softly as you waited. Ghost's cum leaked out of you, dripping on the desk. you didn't think you could take much more.
you thought Price was going to take you from behind like his Lieutenant did, but no. he gently flips you on your back, eyes immediately dipping to your messy cunt.
"pretty little thing, ain't she?" he muses.
"damn right, Captain." you heard Gaz's voice, his breaths a little unsteady from where he is. "feels like a fucking dream too."
"is that right?" a dark chuckle follows the rhetorical inquiry. he's then interrupted by faint struggling, eyes shifting to what you assume is your husband.
his screams are muffled this time. you crane your view just in time to see him getting smacked in the face by Soap.
"keep him quiet." Price commanded. "i want to enjoy this as much as you boys did."
your eyes widen when he lifts your leg and rests it on his shoulder, faint rustling sounds and a belt clinking. your eyes drop low to find the red tip smearing all over the mess the others left on your folds before he taps the head on your clit a few times.
your toes curled and your head softly falls back on the desk. he presses inside just a bit, causing you to wince, the stretch a little overwhelming already. "relax a bit for me, darlin'."
he pushes deeper, your hand presses against his stomach as you whined, "i can't—"
"yes, you can, love." he draws back, giving you a moment to breathe. "just one more, come on." your eyes peered open and you found his gaze. "one more and we'll have a nice bath drawn for you and then we'll put you to bed."
you don't know how you've lasted this long. you don't even know if you're still going to be alive by the time he's done with you.
he held your gaze as he dragged his cock inside, prompting a lewd moan from you. one snap of his hips and you were already clenching down on him.
"fuck, gonna cum f'me already, love?" he hums before throwing your other leg over his shoulder and bends you in half. "we're just getting started."
a broken sound comes out of you when he really starts to fuck you like he means it. the position allowed him to sink in so deep in the way that's going to haunt you for weeks.
he rocked his hips, each thrust had you gasping for air and clawing at his arms, stroking your sensitive walls like he wanted to carve himself into you forever. your weak cries didn't go unheard as you tried to shift away from the way his cock rammed into the deepest, most sensitive nerve.
"take it, darling." his hands grip your hips, his pace becoming more brutal, a white ring gathering at the hilt of him.
"please—" you mewled, but you don't know what for.
"take everything i give you. which is more than your husband ever did." he groaned when you tightened around him, reaching a hand between your bent legs to rub your clit.
heat flared all too rapidly and you felt like you imploded. your back arched as he pressed a firm hand on your stomach, groaning out loud as your pussy spasmed around his hard shaft. your mouth hung open but not a sound came out of you as his rapid thrusts dragged out your high.
you heard a hoarse shout and the sensation of his hot cum shooting into your pussy before you blacked out.
you woke up later on the softest bed in an unfamiliar room, wrapped in a fluffy pink gown. you smelled like shower gel and your skin didn't feel as sweaty and icky as you expected it to be. exhaustion had long settled into your bones, so you don't feel like getting out of bed.
someone opens the door and enters holding a tray filled with food. it's Gaz. he smiles as he puts down the tray on the dresser. "you must be hungry."
you think you might get used to this for a little while.
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rogueddie · 6 months
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Nancys torn shirt was a poor excuse for a bandage and Steve should have changed it as soon as they got out of the Upside Down. He should have cleaned it, best he could, and rewrapped his sides in clean bandages.
But he didn't do that. He'd forgotten all about his injuries as soon as Nancys eyes rolled back in her head.
It didn't feel important after that. They had stopped hurting during the bike ride to Eddies. If the cloth tied around his waist wasn't covered in dry blood and rubbing uncomfortably against his skin anytime he moved, he would have forgotten all about the bites.
After losing Max... and Eddie... he couldn't bring himself to care. He was still on his feet. He still felt fine. He mostly felt guilty, still high on the adrenaline that always comes with a fight with the Upside Down.
It was Robin who told a nurse that Steve was also injured and needed seeing.
But the bites were... good. They were easy to clean and no where near as deep as Steve remembers them being.
"You're lucky here," the nurse told him. "You need to keep wounds clean, no matter how small. If these got infected, you could be in big trouble."
It was only a week later that he started to feel it. And he knew he should tell the others. Robin, Nancy, Will, anyone. He knows the signs. He knows what it could mean.
He feels cold.
There's a buzzing building in the back of his head.
The portals cutting through the town call to him.
He's hungry.
"I just don't feel well," he lies. "I'll sleep it off, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
He can hear Robin frowning through the phone. It almost makes him ache, knowing how much it must be upsetting her that he's drawing back.
"I'm sure," he says. "I'll call you, the second I feel better."
"Not good enough, Harrington. I want a call every single day, I don't care if you're too sick to talk. Breathe at me or something."
"I'll try." Another lie.
"I miss you, Stevie."
"Miss you too, Bobbie. So much."
He hangs up, and immediately wishes he hadn't.
There's a crack at the bottom of his pool. He can feel exactly where it leads and, without Robins voice in his ear tethering him, he can't think of a reason not to.
It's too tempting. Too easy.
Crawling into the Upside Down, all he feels is relief. It's like he can finally breathe again. The spores make his lungs finally feel clear.
"Wh- Steve?!" Someone yelps.
Sat at the edge of his pool, legs dangling off the edge and covered in blood-
"Eddie?"
"What the hell are you doing here?" He says, sliding down into the pool. The vines move to help him. "You gotta go back, man, you can't be here."
"You're alive?"
"Not really, but that's not important. Harrington, you have to leave. Whatever this hive shit wants you for, it's not good."
"Hive? What?"
"Yeah, the... Jesus, dude, what did you think was drawing you in here?"
"I don't know... I didn't really... I couldn't..."
"Hey, Steve, snap-"
Eddie steps forward, trying to scare Steve back by getting in his face, but he freezes mid sentence when they're barely a step apart.
Before Steve can ask, Eddie is pulling his head to the side by his hair, nose almost pressed to his neck. Sniffing him.
"What the hell?" Steve chokes out, once Eddie draws back.
He doesn't step back though, one hand still clutching his jacket and the other resting on the side of his neck. He looks scared.
"They weren't drawing you in. They were calling you home."
861 notes · View notes
flemingsfreckles · 5 days
Text
Not Just a Teammate
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: Jessie takes you home for the holidays to meet her parents, she just left out a few details when telling them you were coming home.
Warnings: a little angsty, some cursing
WC: 4.0k
A/N: I needed a break from trying to write the two other multipart series I have, so I wrote this. I’m probably going to be putting out more short single fic stories to keep from getting writers block on my other work. If you have any suggestions/ requests I’d be happy to hear them, sent them my way :)
“I need to tell you something and you have to promise not to be mad at me.” Your girlfriend of nearly a year whispered into your ear as you stood at the airport waiting for your bags to be unloaded from the plane. You turned around to see her looking at you, a nervous look across her face. She was biting her lower lip, her hand playing with drawstrings of her hoodie.
“You can’t just ask me to not be mad at you before I know what you did.” It wasn’t often that Jessie made you even upset let alone mad, so the fact that she was prefacing what she was about to say had you on edge.
“I didn’t do anything. It’s more what I didn’t do.” She says, looking up at you.
“Quit dragging this out, just tell me.” You were already a little overwhelmed from the long travel day you both had, her beating around the bush was pushing your nerves.
“Remember when you asked me if I had talked to my parents about you coming home with me?”
“Jessie!” You scold her, drawing a couple of looks from the people around you, lowering your voice as you continue “You didn’t tell them I was coming? Seriously?”
“No, no I did, they know you’re coming,” she pauses, you can tell there’s more to that sentence than she’s saying.
“Then what?” Now you were annoyed, you were about to be an unexpected guest at your girlfriend's parents house.
“It’s just, they called you my teammate when I called them to see if you could come home and I never corrected them.” Her sentence comes out rushed. Your eyes fly open, your girlfriend’s parents, who you were expecting to meet in less than an hour, didn’t know you were their daughter’s girlfriend.
“Your parents think I’m just your teammate? Are you fucking kidding me? Jessie Alexandra what the hell?” The volume of your voice raised again, not caring if people around you could hear, Jessie deserved to be scolded for this. Jessie throws her hands up in surrender..
“I know, I know. I was going to tell them, but I just got so nervous every time I couldn’t do it. They don’t even know that I date women, well just one woman now, singular, you.” She points at you. For a split second you forget how upset you are at her, seeing how nervous and shy she got talking about dating you.
“So your parents just think you’re bringing home a teammate for the holidays?” She just shrugs at you.
“Oh my god Jessie.” You move away from her, taking a few steps away. “I’m going to have to lie this whole trip, do you realize how fucked up that is? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve made an excuse not to come.” You were so mad. You had asked Jessie a couple weeks back if she had asked her parents abo it you coming home. She had told you she talked with them, you had assumed that meant she fully told them, that she was bringing home her girlfriend, not just a teammate. Maybe you should’ve been more specific when asking.
“No, no of course not.” She reaches a hand out toward you but you pull back out of her reach. “I’m going to talk to them tonight. I promise.”
She holds out her pinky to you, it may seem childish, the two of you interlocking pinkies in the airport, but it had always been a thing the two of you did, a promise was a promise. You hesitate, so annoyed that she had put you in this situation. She gives you a pleading stare, her big brown eyes a special soft spot for you, you hold your pinky out to hers.
“Until you tell them, don't expect me to act like your girlfriend though.” The words leave your mouth and you see the change in Jessie’s face from guilty to upset. You stand in silence, both of you watching the bag carousel, beginning to think that everyone bag from the plane except your own had come out. You watch as Jessie puts the tip of her thumb between her teeth, biting her nail, a nervous habit of hers. Normally you would pull her hand away, giving it a loving squeeze, or politely telling her to stop. Instead, since you weren't her girlfriend at the moment, you don't, a teammate wouldn't scold her habits.
“Does that mean we’re sleeping in different beds?” The thought of all the tiny aspects that come with being a friend instead of a girlfriend start crossing your mind. You speak up but don’t turn to look at her. As a teammate and a friend, her parents probably weren’t expecting you to share a bed, you'd have to sleep alone until she sorted this out with them.
“I don’t know, they didn’t mention sleeping arrangements to me. I’m sure they’ll have the guest room made up for you. To be fair, they might kick you out of my bedroom once they know we’re together.” Jessie tries to make a joke to you, but not in the mood for her antics, you take it seriously.
“You’re 26, not 16 and we’re both girls, what do they think is going to happen?”
“It’s probably more that they don’t want to hear what might happen. And last time I checked, someone can get a little loud.” when you just look at her, not giving in to her attempt at humor with you a frown comes to her face. “I was joking babe, they have let my sibling’s partners spend the night in their rooms.”
“Don’t ‘babe’ me.” You glare at her, you were being overly mean and you knew it, but you couldn’t help it. Jessie had been so excited to invite you home for the holidays and you had been excited to go, but you were excited to go as her girlfriend, not her teammate.
The fact that she hadn't told them was causing a small part of you to be insecure. Maybe she didn't think you were good enough to bring home as a partner, maybe she didn't want to introduce you to her life in Canada. Maybe she was planning on ending your relationship and this would be the perfect start. You had never questioned your relationship with Jessie before, you felt unsettled knowing you were suddenly having these thoughts.
Jessie moves forward to the belt and she grabs off your bag, sliding it toward you before she grabs the one with her own tag on it. You were too lost in your thoughts to see the bags come on the belt. Normally you'd take Jessie’s bag for her, one of many simple chivalrous things you had incorporated into your life with her, but not today, you grabbed your own and turned to find the exit.
Standing outside, you waited for Jessie’s parents to pick you both up. Jessie waves in the direction of a car that soon pulls over and Jessie’s mom nearly comes jumping out of the passenger seat while it is still moving, making a b-line for her daughter. She pulls her into a hard hug.
“My baby is home.” You hear her say as she rocks Jessie side to side slightly.
“Hi Mom.” Jessie is laughing at her Mom’s behavior. Jessie’s dad is now standing behind his wife, waiting for his turn to say hello to his daughter. Jessie’s mom picks her head up, her eye catches yours.
“Hi, sorry I didnt mean to ignore you.” She moves out of Jessie’s arms and comes over to you arms open. You give her a quick hug and smile.
“I get it, she’s your daughter.” You wave off her Mom’s apology.
“It’s very nice to meet you.” Her parents maybe didn't know they were meeting their daughter's girlfriend but you were still overly aware that this was your first time meeting your girlfriend’s parents. Meeting the parents was a big deal, especially when Jessie was as close with her family as she was.
You hear Jessie start to introduce you to her parents, she says your name and then pauses, “She’s my,” For a second you're relieved, she was going to get the introduction over with now, she was going to correct her mistake.
“um, my, she’s, we play together and she's one of my favorite people.” She smiles in your direction. You shoot her back a smile that to her parents looks normal, they don't know any different. Jessie however, could tell your smile was fake, one that was hiding annoyance.
You all climb in the car, her parents asking questions about your flight, about both of your lives, asking how the season was treating both of you. The ride wasn't too long and you were soon pulling up a long driveway to a beautiful house, hidden back from the roadway, surrounded by huge trees.
Standing in the driveway are both of Jessie’s siblings, they both come to either side of the car, Jessie’s sister to her side, her brother to your side. They greet you and offer to take your bags.
Her brother and mom walk you around the house, giving you the tour as Jessie says hello to her family’s dogs. You see Jessie’s room, you’d seen photos of her bedroom as a child, it was more sophisticated now, less posters on the wall, less toys and clutter, but it still was very much her childhood bedroom. They showed you her siblings rooms, the kitchen, family room, and finally the guest room. Jessie was right, they had made it up for you to stay. You appreciate the fact that they had set up the room for you but you really wanted to spend the night cuddling up with Jessie, not a floor below her in a different bed. Maybe a night apart would be good, maybe it would make Jessie remember how she doesn’t sleep well without you being next to her. Maybe it’ll encourage her to tell the truth.
Jessie’s dad calls down the hall that dinner is ready and you all make your way back into the kitchen.
“Jessie said you weren’t picky, but we made a couple things since she is.” Jessie’s older brother says to you, poking fun at his sister.
“This all looks great, thank you.” You look between all her family members not sure who did the cooking. Everyone makes their plate, you let Jessie and her parents go first, silently distancing yourself from her. They head to the dining room as you start to make your plate.
As you make your way into the dining room followed by Jessie's siblings Jessie is already sitting at the table with her parents, you pick up on the conversation as you enter the room.
“Yeah no, she's great isn't she. Actually we’re um,” you hear her begin to stumble over her words again. “She and I are going to be roommates for the travel season this year.” You're not even sure why you continued to get your hopes up, she clearly was struggling getting out the words that she was your girlfriend and you were hers. Jessie sends you an apologetic look as you sit down across the table from her. You continue dinner, it feels uncomfortable to you and Jessie, but to the rest of the table it was normal, no one knew of the underlying tension between the two of you.
After dinner you all sit down playing card and board games. After a couple rounds of Jessie’s brother winning Uno, you all move to the couches just relaxing. Jessie's mom had grabbed a scrapbook off the shelf and was shamelessly showing you all the baby photos of Jessie, ones of her playing soccer, running, playing in the yard, holding a hockey stick, all the small moments of her childhood. You badly want to gush over the photos as a girlfriend, but you kept it reserved, not mentioning the thoughts of how cute your kids would be some day if they looked like her.
“I’ll be right back, going to let the dog outside.” Jessie says, her voice sounds different, you can't pinpoint why. Once you finish looking through the scrapbook, Jessie’s parents ask if you need anything before they head up to bed. You decline and thank them for the dinner and hospitality.
As Jessie’s parents head upstairs to their bedroom, you realize that you were going to have to wait until tomorrow for Jessie to tell them. She had broken the pinky promise you had made in the airport. Finding it odd that Jessie hadn’t come back in a few minutes, you stand up to look for her. You see her standing outside on the deck off of the kitchen.
You open the glass door, Jessie is standing, forearms resting against the fencing of the deck, head in her hands.
“Just so you know, if you're not planning to keep the pinky promise you made me, that's going to be a problem, and I’ll be happy to sleep in the guest room. I trust you when we do that.” She doesn't say anything back to you, you notice a slight shake to her shoulders as you watch her back. You walk up to her, standing close enough that your shoulder grazed against hers. She pulled her head up from her hands, she had tears trailing down her cheeks. The image of her bringing herself to tears trying to make you happy by telling her parents, immediately took away the built up anger you were harboring toward her.
“Oh Jess.” You let your thumb swipe the tears from her face.
“I’m trying.” She gets out words between gasps for air. “I am, I just, it's like I can't breathe when I go to say it. What if they hate me for it? What if I’m not their daughter anymore?” More tears ran down her face. Your heart felt like it shattered watching her cry, having those thoughts run through her brain.
You couldn't imagine how she had felt. Your parents knew you were going to date women since you were little and came home gushing over other girls, not thinking there was something different about that, they hadn't cared and you didn't need to go through any coming out process with them. Your privilege in that was becoming very clear to you at the moment. You couldn't imagine having to do this at 26.
“Jessie, look at me.” Her eyes meet yours. “I love you. I can’t stand here and tell you I know how you're feeling because honestly I don't, I never came out to my parents. I am here though, I want to help you with this. I want you to feel comfortable telling them.” You wish you could take away her fears, give them to yourself, let her have the easy experience.
“I’m really sorry I’ve been pretty shitty to you since I found out they didn’t know. That wasn't fair of me to do. I got nervous thinking you maybe didn’t want them to meet me as your partner, that maybe you were ashamed of me or something, I got in my own head and got upset. I shouldn’t have been pushing you to come out to anyone.”
“It's okay, it wasn't fair of me to not tell them. I really do want them to know how much I love you.” She shivers against your body. The sun's disappearance had made it much colder outside. You take the jacket you had on off, draping it over her shoulders.
“I’ll be inside if you want to talk or anything, I’m not mad anymore, I was, but it wasn’t right for me to be angry. I hope you know that.” You turn back to the house, leaving her to continue thinking, you knew she needed the space to sort herself out, you couldn’t stay there hovering, it wouldn't help her.
You open the door and look back at Jessie one more time. Her shoulders are not shaking anymore, you can see her breath in the cold air. You step inside and close the door behind you.
“You're not just teammates are you?” You are startled by the voice of Jessie’s sister, she's standing in the kitchen, glass of water in her hand.
“What?” you heard her but not sure what to respond, thats the only word that comes out of your mouth.
“You and Jess. You’re together, right?” She glances in the direction of where her older sister still stood outside.
“I mean, I’ve seen Jessie around plenty of her teammates, she doesn't look at any of them the way she looks at you. She’s also never brought one home for the holidays before. Not to mention, she never shuts up about you when I call her. She finds every opportunity to talk about you. She talks about you like you are the sun. I think you are the sun to her.”
“She’s the sun to me, she's everything.” Accidentally giving her sister the answer. “I probably should have waited and let her tell you.”
“She already came out to me, I just didn’t know about you. I think she's been indirectly trying to tell me for months, she just gets nervous, she gets in her own head about stuff like that and ends up working herself up and then panics.”
“I know.” A silence falls between the two of you, just the sound of the clock ticking in the background.
“Is she okay? I didn’t mean to be watching you two but I came down for water and I saw you out there wiping her tears.”
“She’s just having a hard time telling your parents about all of it. I was under the impression they knew and I had gotten upset with her for not telling them. She only told me this morning that they didn’t know I was her girlfriend.” You pull out a barstool along the kitchen island and sit down putting your hands in your head.
“Oh.”
“Yeah and I’ve been an ass to her about it, which was really a terrible thing for me to do to her.”
“They probably already know, the same way I already knew.” She took a sip from her glass and placed it back on the counter. “I know it probably doesn’t make it easier but It’s not like she had ever been boy crazy. Soccer was always the excuse but I think-”
She’s cut off as the sound of the door opening behind you has you both turning your head to where Jessie was coming through the door. She doesn’t even look at either of you, she speeds right past and you hear her go up the stairs.
You look back at her sister who just gives you a shrug. You’re about to stand up off the stool and follow her when you hear footsteps coming back down the stairs. Except this time it’s more than just the sound of Jessie’s feet. Her own steps are accompanied by the sound of other feet and the questions of Jessie’s parents.
“Jessie what are you doing? We were about to be in bed.” You hear her dad say as Jessie walks into the kitchen, both of her hands behind her, physically dragging her parents with her. They both look confused. Jessie marches them in your direction and stops right in front of you, letting go of her parent’s hands and moving next to you, leaving the four of you to be staring at each other. You see Jessie’s older brother pop his head around the corner, he must have heard the commotion and decided to come see what was happening.
“Mom. Dad.” She looks between them and then at you. “I didn't introduce you all properly before. Yes we play together, and yes she’s my favorite person, but she’s also my girlfriend.” She grabs your hand as she lets the word finally leave her lips. Her hand is clammy with a slight shake to it.
When no one says anything for a minute you start to get nervous. If this was about to go bad and you had pushed Jessie to tell them you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself. If you pushed her and all her fears came true, you couldn’t imagine how you’d begin to handle it. Jessie’s nose sniffles and you look up at her to see her eyes watering again.
Jessie’s dad moved forward to give her a hug. “Don’t cry kiddo, it’s okay.” His hand rubs her back.
“You’re not mad?” Jessie’s voice is so soft. Muffled into her dads shirt.
“Jessie don’t be silly! No, of course we’re not mad. A little surprised maybe, but mad? No.” Her mom joins in the conversation. “We’re always going to love you.” Jessie moves from her Dad’s arms into her Mom’s. Her hand is still tightly gripping yours. Jessie’s mom releases her hold on her daughter and turns her attention to you.
“It’s nice to properly meet you.” You stand up from the barstool and hug her. The hug is tighter than the one at the airport. When she pulls back from you she takes your hand that isn’t being held by Jessie and holds it between both of hers. “Anyone Jessie deems good enough for herself, is welcome in my house. We all know too well how picky she can be.”
“Mom.”
“I’m joking.” She looks at her daughter before turning back to you. “Seriously, welcome to our family.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate you having me.”
Jessie’s mom drops your hand from between hers and steps back making room for Jessie’s dad to move in front of you. For some reason meeting him for the second time feels way more intimidating. You extend your hand, feeling that now it was appropriate to provide a handshake.
“Oh please, Canadians are huggers.” He laughs at your extended hand and opens his arms. You give him a hug as well and you feel the nerves that had been building since Jessie let out the secret start to subside.
“Jess, the guest room is made up, but obviously if you want to share your bed instead that’s fine, you’ll just need to grab the bath towels and extra pillows we laid out from the guest bedroom. Now I’m going back to bed, if anyone else has any news they’d like to share either speak now or wait until the morning.” Her mom looks around between you and Jessie and then back at her two other children.
Her parents leave the kitchen and return to bed. Her siblings also retreat back to wherever they had been before. You stand up and turn to Jessie pulling her into a hug. You feel her relax into your arms, putting her weight into your body.
“I’m proud of you.” You whisper into her ear. You let her go from your grasp and hold her out from you by the shoulders to look at her face. “Ready for bed?” She gives you nod and then leads you out of the kitchen and to her bedroom.
You patiently wait in Jessie’s bed for her to finish up in the bathroom. She comes out, turning off the light and climbs under the sheets. “I love you.” She says, you're able to barely make out her face in the dark of the room. You feel her roll over, pushing her back and butt up against you. It was common that you were the big spoon, but especially after the day you both hand you wanted to hold her tonight. You move yourself further into her, wrapping your body around hers. Gently draping your arm across her waist and holding her, you both let out a sigh.
“I love you.” You respond back, placing a gentle kiss to her shoulder and soon after falling asleep to the sound of Jessie’s breathing.
371 notes · View notes
gureumz · 10 months
Text
come to me, make it right
rating: explicit
member: heeseung
notes: fem-bodied reader, backup dancer!reader, slight dom!heeseung, canon-compliant (?), dirty talk, semi-public sex, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, cum-eating, reader breaches professionalism lol
a/n: let's give heeseung a break and let him have his (your) cake 😔 so here i present the backup dancer fic! don't lie to me i know y'all wish it was you bc i do
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"he's really something, isn't he?"
the question catches you off guard, your head turning abruptly as you give your friend a look. sion, dressed nearly identically to your all-black get-up, scoots closer to where you're seated on the floor, shoving her shoulder right up to yours.
"what are you on about?" you question before taking a big gulp from your water bottle.
"heeseung," she whispers, gesturing with her eyes to the tall figure standing across the practice room. he's typing on his phone, back turned to you.
"what about him?" you ask.
"he's good. like really good. one of the better idols i've worked with," sion explains, hooking an arm around yours.
"oh, please, you wish you could work with him personally," a different voice whispers from your right. serin, another one of your co-backup dancers, slides up to where you're sitting.
"too bad _______ got the gig first," serin adds, nudging you. you roll your eyes as the two of them collapse in giggles.
it's been two weeks since you were onboarded onto this project for enhypen's comeback. today was the dance practice filming and you can say that so far, it's been smooth sailing for the most part. the company was generous enough and the performance directors were easy to work with. the members themselves gave you no problems whatsoever, though you could only truly speak for one of them.
heeseung was nice enough, extremely polite, but also tremendously serious when it comes to performing. you've only known him for all of the two weeks, but you know better than to get in his way. you stepped on his foot once and you remember wanting to disintegrate right then, but to your surprise, heeseung merely smiled, reassuring you that it was fine.
it was rather easy to fall into rhythm with him. you don't know if it was your doing, or his, or both, but it's like the two of you spoke the same dance language. there were barely any words uttered, but understanding passed between you effortlessly.
he was kind of sweet too, always asking if you've eaten, if you need any more water, if his hand placement was too much. you appreciated it, a far cry from some other people you've worked with that barely spared you a glance. you'd be fine with the bare minimum of friendliness, if it was all out of courtesy that heeseung asked you all these questions. but the way he stares down at you attentively has your stomach churning. whether that's a good or bad thing, you've yet to decide.
your eyes draw towards heeseung as he pockets his phone, his gaze somehow finding yours in a split second. before you could look away, he smiles, waving rather cutely at you.
you wave back politely, quickly signing a 'have you eaten?' to him. heeseung shakes his head and points back at you as if to ask, 'how about you?'.
you reply no and heeseung pouts.
'eat soon, okay?' he mouths to you. you hold up the 'okay' sign and heeseung nods, satisfied.
sion and serin fall silent as the three of you watch heeseung gather with the rest of enhypen, all seven excusing themselves to go eat. heeseung locks eyes with you briefly one more time and smiles, eyebrows raised.
and then they were gone.
"what was that?" sion asks, grinning like a feline.
"he's being nice," you contest. "doesn't jungwon tell you to eat when you should?"
sion balks at that, clearing her throat. "he does. he's very considerate."
"but that," sion continues. "that look is different, ________, i'm telling you."
serin nods enthusiastically in agreement. "right? do the two of you talk outside of practice?"
"you guys are so unprofessional," you complain, though a smile creeps onto your face.
"and, no, we don't."
---
"did you see my kakao request?"
you peer up at heeseung, eyebrows knitting together. it takes you another few seconds to register what exactly he was asking.
"you added me on kakao?" you finally ask back.
his hands are in his pockets, a fluffy blanket wrapped tightly around his frame. the weather in poland is more than a little chilly this time of year, a struggle for you all as you drag yourselves through the music video filming.
heeseung chuckles, his eyes squinting down at you. "yeah, last night."
"sorry, i must have missed it," you reply sheepishly, pulling your own blanket tighter around your shoulders. "i have about a dozen requests at any given time."
"ooh, someone's in demand," heeseung teases, nudging you lightly. you laugh nervously, scanning the set around you.
the members and their respective dancers have gotten friendly over the course of the comeback preparations. nothing too chummy, but all of you are comfortable enough to strike up conversations with each other on and off schedule. it was nice, getting to know the guys of enhypen a little better.
but the way heeseung caught up to you in this dark, secluded part of the set where you were merely looking for cell service makes it look a little too suspicious.
'what do you want?' is what threatened to come out of your mouth. you often think you would rather be dead than be caught in a dating scandal with an idol. not that you're assuming anything, but you've seen this behavior before, and heeseung really is just a man at the end of the day, so who's to say that—
"um, is everything okay?" heeseung asks, waving a hand in front of your face. you blink, your surroundings coming back into view. you look up and are met with heeseung's grey-colored lenses. you stop a shiver from running down your spine at how hard he's staring down at you.
"yeah, sorry," you respond hurriedly, clearing your throat. "what i meant to say is, i have messages from people asking for dancers for a program or shoot or what-have-you, all those stuff."
heeseung nods before looking away, eyes scanning the staff as they arrange the set. before neither of you could say anything more, jake's head pops out from behind a stack of equipment boxes.
"hyung? oh, there you are," jake says with a start, noticing you at the last second.
"hi, _______!" he adds cheerily.
you smile warmly at him, slightly relieved that someone is there to interrupt.
jake turns back to heeseung. "jungwon says to drop by the hair and makeup tent for a bit."
heeseung nods at the younger, brushing past you to get to jake.
"see you in a bit," heeseung says, fingers lightly curling around your forearm. you tense up but nod in reply.
"see you," you return weakly.
you wait until the two of them are gone before sighing, stalking off to the other end of the set to where the dancers' tent is set up.
---
studio choom is one of your favorite parts of being a backup dancer. the staff was nice, the set was wide and airy, and the lighting was amazing. your excitement concerning the last part was evident in the way you couldn't take your eyes off your phone as you held it in front of your face.
"i look so good," you comment with a laugh, surveying yourself on the camera display. "even with the mask and all."
"right?" serin agrees from behind you, getting into frame with you. you quickly snap a couple photos.
the director barks out an order to get into blocking and you quickly hide your phone away, silently thanking in your head one of the other dancers for bringing in the large tote to hold all of your devices.
you walk under the bright multicolored lights onto the actual filming set, hovering over the general area of where you're supposed to be blocked. you wait for the members and other dancers to find their places, eyes downcast as you try to find your exact spot.
a hand brushes your arm and you look up to see heeseung smiling down at you.
"you look good," he mutters quietly before walking to center, getting on his hands and knees as he settles into his starting position.
serin passes in front of you, eyes expressive enough that you instantly get what she's saying despite half of her face being obscured by the mask.
'what was that?!' her eyes seemed to cry out.
you shake your head. 'i have no idea,' you respond as best as you can with your own confused gaze.
the director calls out another command and everything else is dropped as all of you fall into performance mode. autopilot takes over you, every take passing by quickly, much to your surprise.
an hour and a half later and on the last take of the chorus, you find yourself restless, stomach already grumbling. you pick at your long black gloves, wishing for this day to be over.
enhypen are in formation in front of the camera, with the dancers at the wings, ready to approach for the chorus. somehow, despite blending into the shadows of the set, heeseung finds you, tilting his head to the side in a sort of greeting.
you mirror his action and heeseung instantly smiles. you can't help the grin that breaks out behind your mask.
"last take, everyone!" the director calls out.
with a little more difficulty than you'd like to admit, you rip your gaze away from heeseung's, a tingling feeling settling in your stomach.
---
almost all thoughts of heeseung disappear from your mind as you get home later that day, too exhausted to pore over every interaction you have with your dance partner. you lay sprawled out on your bed, having just finished freshening up, eyes heavy as you feel drowsiness creep into your consciousness.
the keyword is almost.
you hear a notification ping from your phone and your sleepiness is immediately replaced with pure adrenaline. your read the notification over and over again just to make sure you weren't imagining it.
이희승 (lee heeseung): hi
you sit up, your heart pounding. leaning against your headboard, you watch as another message comes in.
이희승: you up?
you snicker, opening your kakaotalk app. heeseung's name is at the top of the chat room, easily indicating just who you're talking to. you quickly type a reply.
너 (you): ooh he finally messaged ㅋㅋ what an opening tho
you chew on your lower lip as you send the message, the 'read' sign immediately appearing. you watch as heeseung types out his reply.
이희승: lol sorry did that come off too creepy?
너: not at all. why the sudden message tho? was my performance that bad that it has you staying up at night?
이희승: oh no nothing of that sort. just wanted to say thank you for your hard work today
you blink, cheeks growing warm. he messaged you at ass-o'-clock to thank you?
너: thanks! you did super well today too
이희승: don't i always? (pouting face)
it's at this moment that you realize, without a shadow of a doubt, that lee heeseung, a member of a globally renowned k-pop idol group, is flirting with you.
you lock your phone, laying back down on your pillow, contemplating on what to do.
you could always flirt back, then act as if nothing happened the next time you see him. see how far the two of you can take it. you might end up sneaking around green rooms and closets, but, hey, half of the fun is the thrill of getting caught. or you could shut it down now, rejecting him gently because what kind of unprofessional loser would fold at the slightest display of romantic interest from an idol?
you sigh.
you would.
you're a (slightly) unprofessional loser that would fold at the slightest display of romantic interest from an idol.
you open up your phone, fingers moving at lightning speed.
너: my bad. you always do well (wink)
a whole minute passes by, heeseung typing then stopping then starting up again, before he stops once more for a few seconds. you feel anxiety seeping out of every pore on your body.
이희승: good girl ㅋㅋ that's what i like to hear
you gape at your phone, a strange tingle spreading all over you.
you take a moment to scream into your pillow.
---
you're waiting for it to boil over. to culminate into something. for shit to hit the fan, as you would inelegantly put it.
you left heeseung on read last night, at a total loss for words at his reply. he doesn't press further, either. in your mind, he's probably thinking one of two things: 1) that he deeply offended you, or 2) that he's achieved the desired effect.
you don't have to think too hard about which one of those is true.
you enter the assigned green room to you and the other dancers, poking your head in first, eyes landing on your coworkers lounging about.
"oh, _______!" sion calls out excitedly. the rest of them turn their heads to you, erupting into similar squeals.
"close the door!" serin orders. too stunned to protest, you do as you're told, leaning against the wall as all of your friends talk over each other.
"heeseung was looking for you," sion's voice rises above the rest and your eyes unconsciously widen, your heart rate picking up.
"yeah, he came here himself and asked where you were," serin adds, nodding.
"what's going on with you two?" another dancer, yeeun, asks in a singsong voice.
"n-nothing's going on," you say with a laugh, waving them off nonchalantly.
"like we'll believe that," sion retorts. "we'll keep it a secret, promise!"
the rest of them agree, sounding like a chorus of schoolchildren hearing about their teacher's boyfriend. you sigh, setting your things down on the floor.
"we're messaging on kakao, that's all," you admit, shrugging.
"sexting already?" serin chides with a laugh. you give her a look as the room erupts in laughter.
"you guys are hopeless," you say with a shake of your head, but you can't help but laugh along.
"we're not sexting. not...yet," you add. there's a pause before the laughter grows louder, all of them throwing jokes around about being safe and dating scandals.
"luck you," yeeun says with a sigh. "it's taking jake forever to make a move."
the whole room shifts its attention to her and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief. your phone vibrates and you feel your whole body grow hot as you read your screen.
이희승: come out for a second
before anyone can stop you, you quickly slip out of the green room, looking down in both directions of the hallway. to your right, you see heeseung standing outside enhypen's own waiting room, eyes staring at you intently.
with a nervous glance back behind you, you make your way to him. the hallway seems empty at this time, with most artists and staff in their respective rooms, the early prerecording hour hanging heavily over everyone.
"hi," heeseung says with a grin the moment you're near enough to hear him.
"hi," you respond, fidgeting with your hands. you scrape over your knuckles with your nails, waiting for heeseung to continue.
"about last night, i'm sorry if i went too far," heeseung begins, voice dropping, eyes looking around nervously.
oh.
so he's thinking option number 1.
"oh no, not at all," you reassure him. "i appreciate the gesture. i know you were only trying to be friendly."
heeseung raises his eyebrows as you say this. he purses his lips before speaking.
"friendly isn't the right word, exactly...," heeseung says, trailing off. he bites down on his lip, eyes momentarily flitting up and down over your figure.
it's your turn to be surprised.
"i see," you reply.
there's a long stretch of silence after this, both of you avoiding each other's eyes. an awkward laugh escapes you and heeseung follows, scratching at the back of his head.
you finally look up to meet his eyes, his pupils blown wide as he seems to consider his next words.
"i mean, i'm down if you are," heeseung says, stepping closer. "i won't hold it against you if you aren't, though."
you don't need to be told what his words meant. with the way he's staring at you right now, eyes unmoving but filled with something you can only describe as desire, you know full well what heeseung is implying.
"i am," you say after a moment. you're still fidgeting, hands clasped together in front of you. heeseung notices, his own hand coming up to lay on yours, stilling your movements. his fingers curl around your wrist.
"are we waiting after the recording or...?" you ask, letting heeseung pry your hands apart. he grips you firmly and you feel yourself practically igniting from his touch.
"i could use a pick-me-up right now" heeseung throws out casually, as if merely suggesting that the two of you get coffee. he jerks his head towards the door right next to their waiting room.
"this one's empty," heeseung informs. "i checked."
you can't help but grin up at him. he licks his lips as if he's looking down at his next meal, which you know, isn't that far from the truth.
"and no surveillance cameras, either," heeseung says, leaning down to whisper next to your ear.
without replying, you walk backward in the direction of the empty waiting room. heeseung follows, still gripping your arm, letting you pull him along. you never break eye contact, even as you reach behind you to turn the knob, pushing the door open.
only now do you avert your eyes away from him, stepping into the dimly lit room, a single weak lightbulb turned on in the farthest corner. with heeseung right behind you, you hear the door close, and without missing a beat, heeseung tugs you back, hands grabbing you by the waist.
he shoves you against the door, his face impossibly close to yours, your breaths mingling as you practically pant in anticipation. heeseung reaches down, locking the door, the click of the mechanism deafening in the silence.
"you can still say no," heeseung whispers.
"why would i do that?" you say before leaning forward to kiss him.
heeseung sighs against your mouth, his hand holding one side of your face to keep you steady. you're both still in your casual clothes, and you thank the heavens for this because your hands slip easily underneath his oversized hoodie. your palms smooth over his toned stomach and up his chest where you lightly rake your nails back downward.
you gasp when you feel heeseung roughly grab one of your boobs through your shirt at the same time he pushes a knee between your legs. you belatedly realize that it's today of all days that you've decided to wear a miniskirt.
"making my job easier," heeseung teases, as if able to read your thoughts. he smirks at you, planting a brief kiss on your lips as he angles you better on his thigh.
"your job...," you say in between labored breaths. you feel yourself growing wetter as you grind down on the taut muscle. "...is to fuck me before anyone notices we're gone."
heeseung grunts, pulling his leg away, ignoring the way you whine at the loss of friction. he pulls your skirt up roughly, letting it bunch around your waist. you gasp as you hear the sound of ripping fabric.
"heeseung!" you say in disbelief as he pockets your now torn-up lace panties. he merely chuckles, leaning in to kiss down from below your ear to your conveniently exposed chest, a feat made possible by your skimpy tank top.
"turn around, baby," heeseung whispers, planting another kiss, but this time, on your nose.
you stare at him for a moment, eyes bleary. are you really about to do this?
"please?" heeseung adds, eyes wide and round as he utters this one word so sweetly.
with weak knees, you do as you're told, letting heeseung press his chest flush against your back. you mewl when you feel his rough fingers slip between your slick folds, rubbing up then down, circling around the relative area of your clit. he finds it a second later, pressing down and working it expertly.
"fuck," you say, voice trembling. you let out a startled noise as you feel heeseung press a large hand over your mouth.
"no one can see us here but that doesn't mean they can't hear us," heeseung says against the shell of your ear.
"so i need you to be quiet for me, baby, okay?"
melting at these words, you could do nothing more but nod. heeseung kisses the back of your head tenderly. you hear him tugging his sweatpants down, letting it pool around his ankles.
you whimper when you feel a hard poke on one of your asscheeks, anticipation bubbling in you. you wriggle around, spreading your legs slightly apart and sticking your hips out.
"good girl," heeseung praises you, pressing his tip right against your hole. "doesn't need me to tell her what to do."
heeseung keeps his hand pressed firmly on your mouth, ensuring to muffle any sound that escapes you. and it's a good thing, too, because you're tempted to sob when you feel him push in, filling you in one swift motion.
"god," heeseung grunts as he bottoms out. "spent so long imagining what it would feel like to fuck you like this."
heeseung lets go of your face in favor of bracing himself against the door. you gasp out, the feeling of him quickly overwhelming you. and to think he hasn't even moved, yet.
"tried so hard not to let my hands wander but, fuck, you make it so difficult," heeseung says directly into your ear. he gives his first thrust and you decide to take on the responsibility of covering your own mouth because the stretch from his cock threatens a scream out of you.
"those goddamn stylists putting you girls in those tight dresses," heeseung continues. "and they expect us to keep our eyes and hands still?"
your eyes roll back at the filthy admission. heeseung grips you harshly by the waist and the whole world falls away from view when you feel him hammer in and out of you.
it's unknown to you how you could keep yourself upright, your knees feeling as if they could give out any moment. heeseung fucks into you roughly, your words about finishing quickly before your absence raises any questions seemingly spurring him on.
"so good, so fucking good," heeseung blabbers on, surely lost in his own pleasure. you lean back against his large frame for support and heeseung is quick to wrap a hand around your throat.
"yes!" you gasp out, blood rushing loudly in your ears as you feel heeseung squeeze down around your neck.
you wonder what you must look like right now. if anyone on the off chance would walk in on you and see your clothes and hair disheveled, your already short skirt pushed up even further, back arched in pleasure as heeseung fucks into your throbbing, drenched pussy. as if reading your mind again, heeseung prods against your mouth with two fingers, slipping them inside, leaving you no choice but to suckle on the salty skin.
at this moment, the two of you are possibly the very image of sin.
"squeezing me so tight, babe," heeseung breathes out against your neck. you gasp when you feel his teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder, soft moans escaping his own lips.
heeseung pulls his fingers out of your mouth and drool drips down your chin. he grabs at your neck once again, tighter this time, his other arm wrapping around your midsection as he picks up the pace.
"fuck, i'm getting close," heeseung practically growls, maneuvering the two of you away from the door.
"help me out, baby," heeseung pleads in your ears. "tell me how good you're feeling."
you finally let out the sob that's been fighting its way out of you.
"h-heeseung you feel so g-good," you comply, voice breaking from heeseung's vice grip around your neck.
"want you to ruin me like this every day. need you to f-fuck me in front of the practice room mirror," you continue, trying to find the right words despite the growing haziness in your head.
heeseung lets out a noise. "yeah? wanna watch yourself get split open like this? every day, huh?"
you nod frantically. "yes, yes, yes! d-didn't know i needed you this bad."
heeseung grows quiet as he holds you against him, hips snapping up erratically. you're sure that you've made a mess on the floor by now, seeing as you're absolutely drenched. the thought pushes you closer to your own release.
"c-cum for me please," you implore, feeling yourself shake at the thought of your impending orgasm.
"yeah, angel, gonna cum for you. g-gonna cum in this tight, gorgeous pussy. so good for me, letting me fuck them in s-some dark room right next door to m-my manager and members and all the staff, fuck—!"
heeseung abruptly stills, hand falling away from your neck. you take in a gulp of air, your fingers frantically reaching down to rub at your clit. you feel heeseung twitch and spill himself inside of you and you squeeze your eyes shut, coaxing yourself closer to euphoria.
finally, the floodgates open and your whole body seizes up from your orgasm. heeseung's face is buried in your neck and you can vaguely register him encouraging you through it.
you relax after a few seconds, leaning hard against heeseung as you feel your body nearly give out. heeseung pulls out but quickly replaces his cock with two of his fingers. you whine weakly, head lolling back against heeseung's shoulder.
"i got you," heeseung coos, working his fingers in and out of you at a languid pace. you twitch in oversensitivity, complaining how it's too much.
heeseung retracts his fingers and you catch him licking them clean just as you turn to face him. your eyes have adjusted in the dim lighting, heeseung's features coming into focus.
"you just tasted yourself," you say in half surprise and half bewilderment.
heeseung breathes out a laugh, letting his fingers out of his mouth with a soft pop.
"had to keep it in somehow," heeseung says nonchalantly. "seeing as i, ah, compromised your underwear."
you roll your eyes, giggling. "i think you more than compromised my underwear. you tore it in half, heeseung."
heeseung shrugs, donning an unapologetic expression. you swat at his chest playfully but you stop mid-laugh when you feel something drip out of you.
"oh god, fuck—," you start to complain, but before you could get another word out, heeseung drops to his knees, doe eyes peering up at you.
heeseung prods your legs apart, sticking his tongue out just in time to catch his own cum dribbling out of you.
"i'll clean you up, baby," heeseung says, mouth already pressing against your leaking hole.
all you can do is grab onto his shoulder, eyes rolling back as you feel your clit twitch with newfound arousal.
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hatredofdesire · 9 months
Text
I'd rather die
Pairings; Yandere!Nanook x fem!reader [I'd rather die/Shinunoga E-wa — Fuji Kaze] a/n: I had a random thought and I had to get it down asap. I don't see a lot of these too; especially since it's still the beginning of the game— I really wanted to write him because why is this aeon so... [also i have no idea ab these paths, i just writing my own guesses and etcs. so dont take it too srsly] I was drawing him and then i lost interest bc i couldnt understand anatomy at all, but this is a perfect image to use right? tw: yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, hunting reader (nanook), manipulative, stalking, kidnapping, not proof read, for the love of all gods; i know all aeons are they/them pronouns, but ive already written it and i dont really want to go back and change it bc i can't focus like that
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synopsis: the path of destruction is a lonely battle, one might wonders what you're seeking for in hopes of running away under the guise that Nanook doesn't find you, his precious darling.
The Aeon of Destruction, the antimatter legion, the bringer of death, a malicious yet malevolent being, cruel and unfeeling— this aeon has been a thorn in many eyes. Many speculations have considered this aeon to be the bringer of end, destroying innocent planets that have yet to sprout... Thus is the life of one who follows the path of destruction. However may this may be, there is an odd tale, not well known about a particular woman who was gifted— a sacrifice that was meant to quell the anger of Nanook.
Sacrifices were common occurrences; clothes, necessities, women, girls that do not survive past the age of 15, children that are abandoned— These are the types that have been an offering to appease the Aeon of Destruction. Such vileness, yet only one person stands out from amongst the pile of worthlessness. Only a selective few dedicated followers that have researched preciously for the reasoning sought from the Aeon. Their audacious words have spread to the ears of himself, finding the situation quite amusing.
Nanook, his origins unknown other than the planet he had been born from— a complete massacre that have left the universe in silence. An aeon of long lasting will, a destructive manner that leaves humanity shaking in their shoes... Gentle in front of a woman. The researcher had once come upon out of curiosity, that aeon only shows his gentleness to a human woman.
A sacrifice.
One who was spared, but for what reason—
The loud shut of the book slammed close, a questioning look from the archive guard who peered up questioningly. "What's wrong?" The young woman stood up, stretching her neck to loosen the tension for sitting way longer than expected. The excuse slipping from her lips. "Nothing, I just remembered I needed to take my medicine. Thank you for letting me intrude, Dan Heng." Dan Heng nodded, turning away to hide his fond for her after trying to distance himself from the group. There's just something about her that seems to pull him in, she's isn't very... bothersome like March. Similar to like a younger sibling in any case, but she's tolerable.
Leaving the archive, she went straight to her room to take out the non-scented bottle of perfume before spraying it on her again repeatedly. "That should last me a week... I'll have to ask Himeko for more materials..." She muttered under her breath before heading into the main room whereas the conductor reminded everyone that they were going to jump soon.
"Himeko." The [h/c] haired woman approached the red haired elegant woman who was sitting on the sofa patiently. "Ah, miss [name]. Is there something you need?" [name] nodded sweetly, "I'm beginning to run out again... Is it possible to order a new batch?" Her meaning implies that her perfume wasn't going to last long since she was down to a bottle. "Of course, although we'll have to make a small detour stop at Herta's Space station." Reminded by the fact that Herta had asked Himeko for something came flooding back. [name] didn't mind Herta of the Genius society, but she definitely couldn't stand the fact that Herta wanted her like 'bait' for her simulated universe.
Hearing the description of meeting aeons, she dared to not be within any vicinity of those... living omens. Even if Herta rewritten her data, [name] would never want to cross path with an aeon. Not after—
"What? You want me to go with them too?" She tensed up, hearing the antimatter legion attacking Herta's space station was something she didn't expect. [name] pursed her lips, her teeth sinking into the bottom of her lip as she bit hard enough to draw blood. The stinging metallic taste made her finalize her decision. "...Alright. I'll only be escorting researchers back though." Himeko and Welt knew the reason behind her meaning, knowing the young woman didn't want to talk about it— they left her be.
[name] had split up from March and Dan Heng, who went to fight and rescue scientists while she searched through the rooms in case any of the researchers had been left behind and were waiting for help. Of course, she was with the lead researcher Asta who assigned her a few tasks that resulted in her to walk the halls of each level to find any lingering survivors.
Walking past the antimatter legion monsters, [name] sighed in relief that the usage of that perfume was great. Those that follow that aeon, could never sense her. Messaging miss Asta that nobody else was found, she promptly began to head back to the Express as she didn't really want to stay on this space station any longer. Unfortunately, Welt didn't park the Express yet— not with the doomsday beast hovering, but she really didn't care about that at the moment. All she wanted to do was sleep, close her eyes, and—
"Nanook..." [name] cursed the aeon who probed the station once again, knowing his vision settled on her the second she was about to leave. His baritone mellow voice echoing through her ears, a faint mocking laughter as he reminded her that she couldn't leave him no matter what she did.
The doomsday beast crashed onto the supply room with a loud bellow, its target currently being [name] as she was the only one within its sight. "You're fucking crazy..." [name] who tried her best to be optimistic of the results, wincing in pain as she was thrown across the station— landing in a pile of station boxes. "[name]?! Hold on, we're coming!" March's voice could be heard as she struggled to keep her eyes opened. The doomsday beast landed in front of them, blocking them from getting to the passed out young woman.
The soft whispers of him, the touch she knew yet despised. How could he find her? [name] did whatever she could to escape him, that sick fascination wasn't something she could quell. No— It was her death sentence. The day of her execution flashed in her mind, that bastard caused her to fall farther than hell could accommodate her. If she could go back... If [name] could go back— she would have left that damned planet if she had known.
"Return to your rightful place, my beloved." The familiar taunt rang in her ear, drowning out the sounds of her friends voices as they faded further and further away. "Hey! Let her go!" That was the last time she heard March's voice.
Darkness enveloped her, silence accompanied her tears. Where was she? [name] could not understand nor would she understand his desire.
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his gaze softening as the one person he has been longing day and night for— had come to return to him solely. "[name]..." The taste of her name left him shuddering in pleasure, his pretty little doll has come back to him, and stay she shall. Her lashes trembled, a sign of her awakening as the marvelous pair of [e/c] hues focused on his gold colored ones. "Y—You bastard!" [name] hissed, her eyes narrowed to show her disdain for the aeon. Why would he care so much about her?
"You're obsessed." He ignored her scornful words, "So what if I am? All that matters is that you're with me." Burying his face into her neck felt forbidden, a sacred being that haunts his thoughts every second. "You should have killed me." She clenched her jaw, unable to fight against the aeon who held her close to his chest.
His gold colored hues which used to be apathetic, lacking the empathy as he swept through planets like nothing. Staring down at her in a way that terrified her. "You think you're so clever... Trying to hide from me for so many centuries..." Nanook crooned, peppering her skin with his lingering affections that hasn't been forgotten. "I'll never let you leave me." Should she be grateful that her travels aren't as lonely? No! What absurdity is he spouting?! "I'd like to see you try." [name] snapped, pushing the aeon away from her.
The aeon hugged her tighter, "Is that a challenge, my beloved?"
His pretty little darling, Nanook would never let his darling leave him. So go ahead, keep pretending that she could escape him.
Nanook wasn't called the aeon of destruction without a reason.
"I'd rather die than let you go."
a/n: the poll is quite interesting in results of seeing... pls do take the chance to vote on the poll though, we got till like friday PST anyways (check masterlist) pls dont be that one person that has to correct this post (about aeons gender) — sincerely asking nicely.
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pacifymebby · 8 months
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Maybe an imagine for the Peaky Blinders where at some point they got intimate with their girlfriend in the boys’ office and while they were distracted she put her underwear in his gun cabinet. Would love to know how they react when they’re just sitting at their desk and they go to reach for it one day and just find a really sexy pair of undies in there as well😂
I have been writing this for so so so so so so so so so long I think it was one of the first requests I got back in November and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long. It's been sitting in my drafts for months. But here it is, this was actually so much fun to write and I really enjoyed it. I just needed to be in a specific mood to write it i think? I really hope you're still here on my blog anon and that u finally get to enjoy the request :'(
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Tommy
🌿 Tommy is only mildly surprised to find your underwear in the draw of his desk. You're always getting up to no good, trying to push his buttons... You're a little minx really, always trying to get his attention... So this is exactly the kind of thing you might do...
🌿He knows exactly why you did it too... Since getting into politics he's had to spend more and more time away from home, always on trips to London, never at home, with you... He knows he's been neglecting you
🌿So, he sends for you, calls you into his office quite calmly. "Sit down y/n..." he says nodding to the chair opposite him.
🌿You're a little uncertain, he looks so stern and serious that you're getting more and more nervous the longer he makes you sit in silence. You're definitely in trouble, that much you can tell...
🌿But you don't know for certain that he's found your underwear until he takes them out of the drawer and drops them in front of you on the desk.
🌿"Y/N, what are these?" the way hes looking at you through his spectacles, so calm and yet stern... You squirm and stutter your response suddenly nowhere near as confident as you had felt when you left them there...
🌿"Um... Well, uh... My um... My underwear i guess?" "You guess?" "No uh... I know Tommy..."
🌿"Right, alright..." he nods and for a moment when he flashes you half a smile and lets out a little breathy laugh you think thats all the torment he's going to put you through... But of course not. This is Tommy we're talking about.
🌿"Alright y/n, and what is your underwear doing in my desk among my tax documents and memos?" "I uh..." "Come on love speak up we haven't got all day..." "Because I put them there Tommy..." You're already blushing deep red, you're embarassed and he's really enjoying making you squirm.
🌿If he's telling the truth he loves that you did it, gives him an excuse to torture you now, force you to admit how much you want him... Something which he obviously loves to hear. Watching you squirm really tuns him on...
🌿"Oh okay, alright, alright... And y/n,why did you do that?"
🌿 You're speechless now, so embarrassed, you can't believe he's really forcing you to admit it but you know he won't let you go or give you what you really want until you do as he's asking and spell it out for him.
🌿You're just not really the kind of girl that does things like this and though it might have been thrilling to do something bad and out of character, you're remembering who you really are - a good, sweet girl - and suddenly you're regretting your little trick.
🌿 "I.. I guess well, you've been so busy lately Tommy I just... I didn't want you to forget about me you know..." you trail off offering him a shy but seductive little smirk. You really want to keep playing coquette but he's really put you in your place and you're not sure now whether he's going to give you what you want or just keep torturing you.
🌿"Right..." he nods before telling you to get up, "Alright y/n now answer me this eh? Come here and answer me this..." he says quiet and intense, running his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his and pulling you down to meet his gaze. He has you bent right over his desk in the most submissive position... You can hardly breath.
🌿"Do you really think you're so easy to forget?" you can hardly speak, just shaking your head slightly, your breath caught in your throat as he tugs you down to kiss you.
🌿 He stands up, letting you go, leaving you feeling let down and if you're being honest, a little confused. You thought he wanted you? For a moment it really looked like you'd played into his lustful side...
🌿 He warns you not to play childish games with him, that in future if you want something you behave like an adult and you come and ask him for it. "Sometimes angel, when you want somet from me, you say please eh? Remember that word sweetheart..."
🌿Fucks you on his desk anyway... "Thoight you might like playing the bad girl eh angel? You want me to show you how I treat those girls?" his low murmur sends a shiver down your spine and when he sinks his teeth teasingly into your neck you can't breath.
🌿Tommy was always going to fuck you on his desk. From the second he'd felt the soft lace in his hands he'd known what he wanted to do to you.
🌿He just wanted to make you squirm first.
Alfie
🐻 He's surprised by you, other young ladies he might expect this from but not you, not his sweet little zieskiet who has the heart mind and soul of an angel. Who is usually always so well behaved...
🐻 It doesn't help that when he discovers your little memento he's in the middle of an intense meeting with Tommy Shelby.
🐻 Tommy thinks he has the upper hand, thinks he's charmed his way into Alfie's trust once again but Alfie's hand has slipped to the drawer in his desk where his fingers skim the surface of the gun he keeps concealed there...
🐻 But where he expects to find cool metal he finds soft silk and lace instead and his heart begins to race as memories of the afternoon before when he'd called you into his office flicker through his mind like a naughty film...
🐻 For the first time ever Tommy witnesses Alfie Solomons speechless. Sure the moment doesn't last long, but for a second there Tommy catches a strange look in Alfie's eyes, like he's genuinely stunned... He's probably lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's the reason Alfie's quietly struggling to swallow a lump in his throat.
🐻 But Alfie just sweeps the underwear to one side for later, tskes the gun out and rushes Tommy through the deal, hurrying him out the door, grumpy and impatient so that he can go home to you.
🐻 When Alfie comes home that night he's playing the "everythings as it always is" act, grumbling to you about the lads in the bakery, grumbling to you about something clumsy Ollie did earlier thst day... You're listening but only a little as you shape the bread you're baking. You're don't look at him until he says something that surprises you...
🐻 "Oh, oh yeah right, right i almost forgot, yeah, silly me eh, almost forgot these..." he says producing your lacy underwear and dangling them from the tip of his finger.
🐻 When you turn around to see what he's holding you're shocked. You drop the knife thats in your hand and it clatters on the floor. You shouldn't bd surprised, you only left them there the day before, but somehow your strange out of character whim had completely left your mind.
🐻 "Oh..." you say your hand raised to your mouth... Alfie's still just holding them out, the scandalous garment just dangling between you, you blushing at the memory of your time together. Him waiting, stern expression, for you to take them from him.
🐻 "Oh..." he says watching you, wondering if you know you're in trouble or not... You've turned the most adorable shade of red and he's already struggling to hold his grumbling resolve. "Yeah," he says, "oh..." "Thats what I thought an all when I found em earlier right, I though 'oh" he holds his hand to his mouth mocking your earlier gesture... Making thst blush of yours all the worse because you can't tell if you're being teased or if he's really quite cross with you..
🐻 "An you know what yeah poppet? I showed em to Tommy fuckin Shelby yeah and you know he said 'oh' too, just like that yeah 'oh'..." now you know he's trying to make you squirm, trying to tease you. Because you know theres no way your Alfie would ever show another man something as private as your underwear.
🐻 You smile nervously, your blush and your shy giggle as you bite down to try and stifle it too much for Alfie to maintain any temper he might have been trying to build up.
🐻 Instead he steps up to you, traps you between the cupboards and his body, holding your underwear right up to your face, the lacy garment dangling right by your cheek, silk brushing your skin.
🐻 "These my little zieskiet, these yeah are a very dangerous object, and you right, you're a very good girl yeah, so you my dear, you should not be leaving these, dangerous things yeah, you should not be leaving dangerous things like this lying around right, cause you never know who's gonna find em..."
🐻 "Well that's why i left them in your drawer..." you say quietly, your biting on the tip of your thumb, looking at him so sweetly that its hard to imagine you could have done something as tempting as this.
🐻 "Yeah," he says, "yeah you did didn't you... Tell me poppet, cause theres somethin I'd quite like to know right, somethin thst interests me a great ammount... Why yeah, why would a sweet little girl like you do somethin like that?"
🐻 You would be so shy and blushy, you absolutely wouldn't know what to tell him, your voice abandoning you as you look back at him with doe eyes, biting on the tip of your thumb. When you try to look away he takes your chin in his hand and steers your view back to him.
🐻"Remember my dear little zieskiet, we don't keep secrets me an you? Nah, we don't have no secrets..."
🐻 He knows what you want and he's definitely just teasing you because his favourite thing in the whole world is to watch how you melt like butter for him. How you'll tell him anything he asks, do anything he asks, all he has to do is stroke your cheek and look you in the eyes.
🐻 Honestly he thought he was cross with you for distracting him at a crucial moment but now he's face to face with you, now he's got one hand on your waist the other holding your neck delicately, all he wants to do is reward you for your bad behaviour...
🐻 "Think you'd better pop yourself down over papa's lap..." you think he's going to spank you but when your eyes go wide he just chuckles, tells you not to look so worried...
🐻 Fingers you within an inch of your life whilst you're laid across his lap and then makes you promise him that next time you want his attention you'll just ask.
🐻 "Oh an poppet, promise me yeah, promise me you'll give me a little warning next time you try to play a trick like that... Don't like surprises me..." He's practically telling you to do it again.
🐻 when hes finished with you he'll give you your underwear back and then watch you put it back on in front of him. You want to hate his triumphant little smirk but you're still shaking from your high and when you've done as he asked he welcomes you back into his arms for a cuddle and tells you (almost) all about how your little trick nearly interrupted a crucial business meeting.
Arthur
🍂 He had been about to kill a man. That he was sure of. Seething with rage, red in the face with a hatred burning in him, that infamous formidable temper hazing his mind, taking over so that in 30 seconds time he wouldn't be Arthur Shelby anymore. He'd be the animal he fought with every day.
🍂 He'd stormed through the house on Watery Lane to the cabinet he kept his guns but when he'd thrown the doors open, practically frothing at the mouth, eyes narrowed and searching only for a weapon with which to destroy the man in question... When he threw open those doors he found a pair of your silky panties artfully wrapped around the barrel of his firearm.
🍂 Suddenly the man in question was the last thing on his mind. His temper wasn't quelled, all that anger and adrenaline was still buzzing around inside his body... He needed an outlet, something or someone to take it out on, lay into... But he couldn't think of anyone else in that moment. Not now he'd seen your underwear. Not now he'd been graced by a flash of memory, your naked body spread beneath him, your eyes rolled back in ecstacy as he'd fucked you the night before...
🍂 So his attention was diverted and a man's life has inadvertantly been saved because now rather than vengeance Arthur is only hungry for you...
🍂 He spends a little time hunting you down, searching around the house and then around the town looking in all your usual haunts. However he finds you exactly where he wants you. Sitting in his chair at his desk in the office down the factory.
🍂 "You," he says when he sees you, his eyes narrowed on you as he takes in the sight of you. How pretty you are, how innocent you're trying to look. It drives him wild and he can barely control his breathing as he locks the door shut behind him and pulls down the blind, "fuckin stand up when I'm talkin to you sweetheart..." He growls snatching at your wrist, pulling you to your feet.
🍂 he's rough with you but honestly that's what you wanted... Arthur's always trying to be on his best behaviour around you and the idea of sparking his temper, of having him be a little rougher with you.. it excites you more than you want to admit.
🍂 he pushed you back against his desk until you're perched just on the edge and when he steps between your legs, your feet hovering just above his shoes, he takes his revolver out and points it at you. You're nervous, your breath catching in your throat as you look up at him with wide, not quite timid eyes. You're starting to wonder if you've bitten off more than you can chew.
🍂 he uses his gun to push your dress slowly up your thigh, you can't take your eyes off it, the cool metal on your skin shivering you, causing goosebumps to ripple over your arms.
🍂 "You are in so much trouble..." He growls, "you don't wanna know how much fuckin trouble you're in y/n... No you don't..."
🍂 "Fuckin look at me eh love, when I'm talkin to you you fuckin look at me..." You're so nervous and the way his voice comes out gravelly and thick with adrenaline, the way you can hear his rage in every word makes you scared you might have gone too far, that you really are in as much trouble as he says you are...
🍂 he uses the barrel of his gun to push your chin up holding it there digging into you to force you to look him in the eyes when he's talking to you. You're trembling with nerves and sexual desire and he can see both your fear and your lust right there on your face. "Not so innocent now are you darlin..." He growls as he rubs his rough hands up over your thighs pushing your dress right up to reveal you...underwearless, legs spread, the sheen of your arousal catching his eye.
🍂 he can't get his belt undone quick enough but when he's dropped his trousers around his ankles he grabs you almost violently pulling you towards the edge of the desk, entering you suddenly, the shock displaced with pleasure almost immediately as he growls into your ear and starts thrusting in and out of you quickly.
🍂 his movements are sharp and desperate and he's fucking you in a way he's never fucked you before. It's divine, exactly what you'd hoped for.
🍂 "y'see sunshine a man was gonna die tonight right, I was on my way to fuckin kill him when I found your little fuckin surprise..." He growls as he's fucking you, you're so dizzy with pleasure that all you can do is moan in response clutching at his hair for your dear life. Your legs squeezing his waist so tightly as you shake and he manoeuvres you on his cock.
🍂 "Fuck," he groans, "I was gonna fuckin kill him and these fuckin things were the only thing that stopped him yeah so I reckon that must make you some kind of fuckin angel... Doin god's work eh? What kind of angel goes round saving lives with her cunt eh?"
John
🌼 Would be absolutely delighted. All his Christmases have come at once and he can't keep the grin off his face... can't and doesn't want to be subtle even if there's someone else in the office with him.
🌼 In fact if there is someone else in the office with them he'll definitely flaunt the fact that his girlfriend's 'forgotten' her underwear. He's so childish'y smug about it and he can't wait to get home to you.
🌼 He'd have them hung from his finger, slung over his shoulder as he leaves the office early, waving them in explanation when Isaiah shouts after him asking where he's going. Then as the office door swings shut behind him he'd tuck them into his pocket for safekeeping, whistling as he walks home.
🌼 You have put him in such a good mood, theres a real spring in his step and his mind is buzzing with all the thoughts of what he'll do when he gets home to you.
🌼 he'll come in having decided he's going to tease you, play a little trick on you. He'll call through the house for you with a real urgent tone to his voice as if something is seriously the matter...
🌼 and when he finds you sitting in the nursery with one of your friends and the children he'll put on this grave expression, apologise to your friend and send them away.
🌼 "I'm really sorry sweetheart but this can't wait and I need y/n," "God what's the matter John, the family? Is everything okay?" You'd be so worried asking him all sorts of questions but he wouldn't give you an answer until your friend has hurried out the door and you've put the little one in their crib.
🌼 then he'd turn to you, still with those serious, worrisome eyes, he'd place both hands on your cheeks and hold you carefully, looking as if he were about to break the worst news... "I'm sorry for ruining your day flower, if it could have waited you know I would have waited..."
🌼 you're almost panicking now getting more and more anxious by the second, "John what is it just tell me what's happened!" You beg and just like that he relaxes, grin spread across his face as he shrugs.
🌼 "Oh nothing major, don't fret flower... You just forgot these is all..." He says with a cheeky grin as he takes the underwear from his pocket and dangles them in front of your face by the tip of his fingers. He looks so unbelievably proud of himself you could honestly slap him.
🌼 if he wasn't so attractive you would definitely slap him... Instead you just stare back at him in disbelief, you try to get annoyed with him, "For fuck sake John you scared me!" You exclaim but you can't finish the sentence without letting out a little giggle.
🌼 "So..." He says lowering his voice, getting closer to you, his hand on your hip pulling your body in close to his, "if you left your underwear in my office this morning..." He starts, his breath warm on your cheek as he leans in to whisper in your ear, "what're you wearin under this dress?" "Why don't you take it off me and find out..."
🌼 So then he realises you definitely didn't just forget your underwear. The naive 'ad had kind of thought it a mistake, hadn't really thought you capable of playing such a wicked little trick but now he's realised your games, how you're more trickst than he'd first imagined he's actually very proud of the fact.
🌼 he'd pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and carry you to the bedroom, throwing you down on the bed where he'd crawl above you, looking down at you full of pride and mischief.
🌼 "So you were playin tricks with me were you flower?" He'd ask, his tone making you squirm and giggle, making you feel teenage and playful and like you might be in the best kind of trouble. You'd try to wriggle away from him, he's got that look in his eyes like he's about to either tickle you to death or fuck you hard and you can't tell which...
🌼 "hang on a minute flower where dya think you're going?" He chuckles stopping you going anywhere with just his hand on your shoulder pushing you into the mattress.
🌼 uses your underwear to tie your hands behind your back so you can't escape him. Then fucks you until you're exhausted, your hips aching from having your legs spread for so long... But you've come so many times you have that warm, all over tingle and when you finally collapse into eachothers arms you can't wipe the smiles off your faces.
🌼 it's going to start some kind of game between you, the two of you trying to outdo one another with mischievous little acts. But John always loves it whenever you leave something intimate of yours in his office and now you know you'll be rewarded for it you do it more often.
Bonnie
🍀 You'd been in his dressing room with him before his big fight, wishing him good luck. You always worry about him before he goes into the ring but you're also really proud of him, and there's something about being alone with him in the changing rooms before he goes out that really turns you on.
🍀 You run your hands over his chest, taking in the sight of him unscathed for the last time, and try to contain your desire. You find him so attractive when he's in the ring and you always let him know. It boost his ego and makes him walk out there twice as cocky.
🍀When you kiss him goodbye you give him a real, deep snog, one hand in his hair, the other hanging your lace black underwear from the gym peg behind your boys head. You want him to have a surprise for when he returns later triumphant.
🍀 He doesnt notice them when he's leaving for the ring, too in the zone, focussing and firing himself up - and your kiss certainly helped fire him up.
🍀All through the fight you're cheering him on just as you always would and Bonnie feels absolutely champion even when he's on the recieving end of a few nasty blows. He knows his little dove is in the crowd watching him and that makes him fight twice as hard because he loves showing off to you.
🍀 When Bonnie wins the fight you're delighted, you jump out of your seat and scream triumphantly for him. Blowing him a kiss when he looks over to you, his bloody grin far more attractive than it should be.
🍀 When he returns to the changing room victorious he's greeted by the Peaky Blinders and his dad, all of them congratulating him. Tommy is very impressed with his work and wants to discuss the next match with him but when something catches Bonnie's eye he follows the younger lads gaze and smirks, rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
🍀Because Bonnie is blushing a deep shade of red. The poor boy is so surprised he's speechless and Tommy can tell Bonnie hasn't heard a word of what's been said since he clocked your underwear hanging from that peg by the benches.
🍀"Alright lads c'mon lets leave our champion to cool off eh, looks to me like he's expecting company..." Tommy is still smirking and his overly casual tone as he draws everyone's attention to the underwear in question makes poor Bonnie even more embarrassed and awkward.
🍀There's a lump in his throat he's struggling to swallow down and all he can think about is you. He manages to stammer out a goodbye, promises to meet them in an hour down the garrison but Arthur laughs and shakes his head, "Nah you won't," he grins, "nah you fucking won't!"
🍀And Arthur's right, the only thing Bonnie will be doing in an hour's time is well, you.
🍀He is so turned on by your little trick that when he sees you he can barely contain his desire for you. He's usually pretty bad after a fight, all that adrenaline coursing through his veins but today he's even more fired up than usual and when you slip into his changing rooms and find him alone, he's got his hands on you in seconds.
🍀he does not want to wait for you to clean him up like you usually do and when you take a warm cloth and begin dabbing at his bloody lip and the cut on his brow he wraps his arms around you and pulls you down into his lap, grinning and teasing you, kissing your cheek and nuzzling into you, making it very difficult for you to do your job.
🍀You giggle trying to brush him off, though secretly really enjoying seeing how desperate for you he is.
🍀"Bonnie sit still, you're making this really difficult," you smile trying to dab at his brow, missing because he's ducked his head to kiss your neck and has already begun to undo the laces that hold your dress together at the back. His nimble fingers are making quick work of loosening them and you know you need to clean him up quickly because the second he's slipped your sleeves from your shoulders you're doomed.
🍀And in the end Bonnie wins and you're forced to accept that you'll just have to wait to clean him up later. He's got other plans for you just now.
🍀Will hold you down in his lap, a really energetic needy fuck before lifting you up and fucking your roughly against the wall. Even though he's going hard he still manages to be careful with you, making sure to hold your head in his hand to stop you bashing it against the wall etc...
🍀He doesn't tire quickly and honestly, your little surprise has given him more of a rush than winning that fight.
🍀Neither of you make it to the Garrison for those drinks and poor bonnie winds up on the recieving end of a lot of ribbing from the other lads. Whenever they bring it up he blushes and gets embarrassed but no matter how many times they ask he never shares the details of what happened after they left.
Isaiah
🐀 Is quietly impressed by your devious little game. He sees them in the drawer strewn artfully over his revolver and he smirks, closing the drawer shut again as if he hasn't even seen them.
🐀 He's biding his time see, playing the long game, dragging the desire out for as long as he can. He wants to wait long enough that you will have forgotten all about it. Or at least until you've come to the disappointing conclusion that he found your little surprise and didn't care about it, wasn't even remotely bothered by it...
🐀 And when weeks go by without him so much as mentioning them, without him even hinting at having found the little gift you left for him that's the conclusion that you come to. That he wasn't bothered, that he thought it was embarrassing and childish, that he doesn't even want to mention it because he thought it was classless and foolish and he'd rather forget all about it.
🐀 Meanwhile Isaiah is enjoying having your underwear in his drawer at work, whenever he has to reach in his drawer for his revolver he feels the black lacy pants there too and smirks. He can't wait to remind you about your naughty little trick... When he's bored at work he opens the drawer to look at them and imagine what he's going to do with you when he finally makes his move.
🐀 And then just as you've vowed you'll never make a stupid mistake like that again, just when you've decided never to behave so foolishly again... He'll have a surprise for you all of his own...
🐀 One night when it's just the two of you, in his room, fucking he catches you out.
🐀 He's on top, his cock deep inside you and your eyes are closed, your lips parted as he fucks you hard, you're right on the edge, your body shivering beneath him, your hands clutching at the sheets as you roll over into an orgasm.
🐀 And then when you moan he shoves your underwear into your open mouth and shocks you with them.
🐀 Your eyes open wide in shock uncertain what he's just put in your mouth and when he leans down, his nose brushing yours, his eyes lit up with mischief, clearly very pleased with himself, and grins down at you, "you lose these?" You feel your cheeks flush crimson. But you can't hide or look away because he's got you pinned down and he's still fucking you, his hands either side of your head, arms rippling.
🐀 All you can do is look up at him, and because you can't shy away, because you're forced to face up to the moment you're forced to acknowledge how much it turns you on... So your only response when he talks to you is your needy moans.
🐀 "Whats the matter mousy, did you think I'd just thrown them out?"
🐀 he will tease you about it relentlessly, loves trying to embarrass you, likes watching you go bright red. But in reality he loves this naughty side of you and he wants to encourage it, so when you threaten him one day, "if you keep teasing me I shan't do it again," he backtracks very fast.
Michael
☘️ In New York, you're his other woman and you're jealous. Hes been spending far too much time with Gina lately, sure you know they're the real deal, you're just his honey on the side but still... You should still get a taste of your man every once in awhile.
☘️ So you slip them between a stack of invoices and stock reports and send them up to his office. You may or may not be aware that his Gina is up there with him. That he's all snowed up, and she's going to be the one who takes the invoices and starts to filter through them...
☘️She's probably the one who phones up for you... Michael doesn't even realise whats going on until Gina has welcomed you into the office, studying you, asessing how much of a threat to her relationship you really are...
☘️ But when Michael sees you he panics, swallows a lump in his throat and scrambles to sit up and start paying attention..
☘️ "Whats this about love?" he says to Gina, "whats y/n doing here?" "Oh so you do know her name... Congratulations honey I guess you're more than just one of his whores huh?"
☘️ you feel a little bit like you've walked into a trap, like you've made a bed you're not actually capable of lying in, you're hardly even paying Michael any attention now, it's Gina who's your main concern. She invited you up here... What does she want with you? She certainly isn't looking at you like she's looking for a fight...
☘️ She's watching you expectantly, waiting for either you or Michael to speak up. Then she takes your underwear and tosses them to Michael who is so surprised by them that he drops them.
☘️ "What do you think honey, you think he remembers who they belong to? Tell us Michael baby, are they mine or are they hers..."
☘️ Michael would he totally speechless, he's looking between the two of you, thinking that this is some conspiracy against him but you're just as stunned as he is and you kind of feel like turning and running out of the door.
☘️ but when you make your excuses to leave and try to back out of the door, thinking it best to leave them to their inevitable fight Michael calls after you... "Y/N wait..." which makes Gina laugh.
☘️ "Yeah honey don't go," she says licking her lips wickedly, "the funs only just getting started..." She says teasingly, her eyes glowing with lust... But who for you can't tell anymore?
☘️ When she catches your hand in hers and tugs you back into the office your breath catches in your throat. But what she whispers in your ear leaves you speechless, your heart racing.
☘️ "C'mon y/n kiss me, let's see what he does next hmm?"
☘️ It would be an evening you will never forget.. Gina was only really dragging you into it so that she could get your measure, wanting to work out exactly how much of a threat you were... Wanting to use you to torment Michael. If he's fucking you then she wants to he too, he can't possibly be allowed to have something she hasn't got.
☘️And although Michael is quietly livid with you in the moment he can't control his own lust, his anger taken out on you when he lies you down on his desk and fucks you hard, your head between Gina's legs whilst she rides your mouth and smokes a cigarette casual as you like.
☘️ after that whenever you or Gina feel like a bit of fun you send your underwear up and down to one another slipped between memos. The three of you spend a lot of time in that office snowed up and fucking.
☘️ and although Michaels more than happy with the new arrangement he still makes sure to get you alone so that he can punish you for being so reckless.
☘️ he will bend you over his lap and spank you making you apologise with tears in your eyes as you promise never to be so careless again.
☘️ You will however be that careless again and he'll be more than happy with the consequences.
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moonchildstyles · 5 months
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oleander part two: sneaking away to see harry, y/n learned more than she bargained for
wordcount: 16.7k+
—————
The blunt of (Y/N)'s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, holding back the lingering smile that wanted to curl her features. More than once, she peeked through her lashes to the darkly dressed figure sauntering through the apothecary. 
True to his word the last time they had met, Harry returned to the apothecary sooner than usual. It had only been a pair of weeks since she had seen him previous when she was being carted away from his castle. He had been on her mind since, hoping he wouldn't wait the usual two months before she would see him perusing the shelves once more. 
The second that she had seen him step over the threshold of the front door, her heart fluttered through her chest in a rattling beat. A lopsided curl made a home on his own features, but they both stayed quiet. 
They both knew they couldn't exactly boast about their clandestine meetings. Their encounters were unspoken secrets that they could now share in fleeting glances and small smiles. 
It was seemingly harder than ever to keep her eyes to herself and her feet behind the counter this time. That alluring draw of him had been elevated that much higher now that there was more of that connection forged between. More than once, before falling asleep, she sent herself sweet dreams with the final thought of just how concerned he was, reaching for her when she woke up after the storm. 
As if knowing exactly what was on her mind, Harry flicked his gaze over his shoulder to her. She didn't turn away in time, instead allowing her skin to warm when his eyes grazed over her skin. 
He was the first to break the contact before he absently reached for a bundle of lavender sprigs and started towards the counter. They both knew he didn't really need anything new, but shopping for more was the perfect excuse to share space once more. 
"Did you find all that you were looking for, sir?" she asked, repeating the same script she had always given him when he dropped his purchase on the counter. 
"I did, thank you," he smiled, canting his head as he watched her take her time checking him out, "The weather has been rather intense lately, don't you think?" 
She had her head down as he spoke, though she didn't mask the smile that bloomed across her features. She knew what he was getting at. "Definitely. The storms have been unlike the previous years. I had a bit of trouble a few weeks ago during one of the thunderstorms, but I'm doing much better now." 
"Good. I am happy to hear that," he drawled, his voice thick like the velvet she remembered glazing over her skin when she woke up in his castle. "I hope the weather stays stable for a little while longer, as I'm planning on throwing a dinner party in the coming weeks."
(Y/N) perked up, her meandering fingers slowing. "Really? A dinner party?" 
"Yes," he cemented, linking his dark eyes with hers in unwavering contact, "I am planning on it being an intimate affair, only a few in attendance. I do not have the specifics planned out yet, but invitations will be sent out in the coming weeks." 
She really hoped she was picking up on the correct message he was passing along, and it wasn't just her dreamy heart that told her that she would be one of the few receiving an invitation. Her lungs squeezed at the thought of rejoining him at the castle, even if it included the prying eyes of others. 
Collecting herself, she passed back the lavender bundle. "I am sure it will be wonderful, sir. I can't imagine you would plan anything less than flawless." 
"We will have to see," he started, dropping coins on the counter without having to be told the price, "I expect it to be perfect as long as the right guests show up." 
Another meaningful glance was shared between them. A slight quirk appeared on his lips. 
"Until next time, (Y/N)." 
Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, she swore she felt her skin warm despite the low temperature of the shop. "Until next time, sir." 
Using the window beside the counter, (Y/N) watched him head straight towards a midnight carriage drawn by bone-white horses. Pulling over the cobblestone, the coach headed straight back towards the castle, no other stops made.
—————
The rickety stool under (Y/N)'s feet wobbled some as she stretched to the tips of her toes. Her breath was stuck in her throat each time she felt that small stool creak under her feet. No matter the dropping of her stomach every time her stability tottered, she kept up her task of hanging the herbs from the lines criss-crossing through the apothecary. 
Just as she took another twined bundle of lavender from her basket, intending to add it to the row that needed a few more days of drying before being added to the shelves, a knock sounded on the front door of the apothecary. The sound took her by surprise, her balance waning with her hand over her head and toes stretched in her boots. 
The door was unlocked, right? The shop had been open for hours; there was no reason to give a knock to the door.
Nonetheless, (Y/N) carefully climbed down from the stool. Looking towards the door, she saw an unfamiliar, pale face looking through the glass. The sight had a zip of fear going up her spine, her hand fluttering up to rest on her throat. The man on the other side of the door didn't have any reaction to her fright, his features set in expressionless stone. 
While she didn't recognize this man, there were small details that she could also see in Harry. This man had pale skin, and dark eyes. He looked to be impossibly still, stuck in a moment in time. 
He could clearly see her through the glass, a surefire sign that the shop was well open and ready for customers. Still, he stayed out in the late morning dew, patiently waiting for her. 
While there was no way he hadn't caught her reaction, (Y/N) still tried her best to school her expression into something pleasant. Moving across the shop, basket of lavender at her hip, she opened the door for her new patron. 
"Good morning," she greeted, feeling the touch of frigid morning air grazing her skin, "How may I help you, sir?" 
Ignoring her initial question, he only asked, "May I enter?" 
Taken aback, she floundered over her response. "Um—I—" she stumbled. She'd never had to invite a customer in while the shop was open. Collecting herself, she bowed her head as she opened the door wide enough for him to make it through, "Yes. Please, come in." 
He moved deftly over the floor, barely making a sound on the floorboards. "You are Ms. (Y/N), right?" 
Giving a fluttering blink of her eyes, (Y/N) nodded her head. "Yes, I am." 
The man silently pulled out an envelope from his jacket before passing it off to her. Cautiously taking it from his grip, she tried not to appear as curious as she felt when she peered down at the elegant letter now in her hands. 
On the front, in glimmering, burnished gold lettering was her name scripted in looping font. Just the weight alone was enough to show just how important this correspondence was, as if the hand-delivery wasn't enough to give away as much. Only for the fact she still had an audience, (Y/N) refrained from slipping her finger under the blood red wax seal enclosing the flap.
Instead, she tucked it behind her back before looking up towards the footman. 
Only, he was gone. 
She just barely caught him on his way out, the length of his dark hair fluttering behind him as the bell above the door tinkled. The sound was decidedly quieter than when she had pushed the door open herself to let him in. She hadn't even heard him cross the space, the floorboards giving nothing away under his footfalls. 
There was no chance to say anything to him—thank him for the delivery, ask him who the letter was from, anything at all, really. She was unable to catch even what direction he disappeared in, only knowing that she was now alone. 
A grin plucked at her lips at the thought. 
(Y/N) didn't waste a second before she was pulling out the letter once more, wanting to open it as soon as possible while she had the privacy. 
Allowing her eyes to peruse over the gorgeous stationery, she could see the faint flecks of shimmer in the ink used to spell out her name. The wax seal was a vivid red color, embossed with a bold S wreathed in thorns. Doing her best to keep the wax intact, (Y/N) carefully picked at the edge to flip open the flap. Inside, a folded letter awaited on another piece of rich stationary. 
Her breath was stolen as she unfolded the paper, looking over what exactly had been so important to be delivered directly to her hand. 
It was an invitation. 
The ink was the same burnished gold, accented with filigree style line work across the edges. There was a texture to the page, (Y/N) unable to keep from running the pad of her thumb across the page. It was luxurious—the kind of correspondence she figured nobility would have the privilege of receiving. And, it was addressed to her. 
A week from today's date, she was requested to be present at Harry Styles' home for a dinner party in celebration of the turn of the season. The same party he had told her about a week prior. 
There was no doubt she would appear mad to any onlooker that dared to peer through the windows into the shop, seeing as how she was grinning down at the letter. She had hoped this was what Harry had been telling to her without actually saying it—that she would be invited to his home for this dinner. Her heart sped up behind her ribs, her breath shorting in her lungs at the idea of rejoining him at his home. 
Without permission, a squeal escaped (Y/N)'s lips. She couldn't help herself as she twirled her dress fanning around her ankles, as she pressed the letter to her heart. 
There was no doubt she was mad now.
—————
(Y/N) had been riding high all day after her special delivery, only for the comedown to have her face planting into the earth. 
There was another body found. Another young woman laid to rest in the woods with her throat ripped out and no blood left in her body. 
The village was submerged in shades of blue for the rest of the night, including her father by the time he made it home. He had gone out with others of the town to help carry the woman back to the village in hopes of giving her a proper burial with her family. 
He had been practically silent since he scaled the stairs of the apothecary, joining her in the flat above. His energy was hard to ignore, even if her mind continued to wander more than once to the letter she had spent hours memorizing when she had been alone. She had been so excited when receiving the correspondence, but now that giddiness had to live alongside that simpering grief the rest of the village had slipped into. 
There was nothing but the sound of cutlery clinking against their chipped flatware, dinner nothing more than a warming stew and the last of the summer vegetables that had been harvested. Her father saw their home through unseeing eyes, as he couldn't seem to focus on one space for too long before he was flitting to the next. (Y/N) matched his silence, keeping to herself in hopes of allowing the night to pass quickly. In the morning, hope would be restored to her neighbors and she wouldn't feel so out of place still feeling excitement for her invitation. 
"What is that?" 
Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) checked back into the unexpected moment. "Pardon?" 
Her father's eyes were fixed over her shoulder, towards the kitchen where the leftovers of the stew were simmering on the tiny stove implanted in the space. "What is that?" 
Twisting in her seat, she tried to follow his gaze. "There are some leftovers if that is what you are wondering—" 
"No," he cut her off, pushing his chair away from the table before stalking towards the kitchen. 
At the last moment, she realized what exactly had caught his attention. 
During the hours she had been left alone while he aided the village in bringing the young woman in the woods home, she had read and reread and reread the invitation as many times as she could. She admired the gilded writing, the exquisite seal, and every luxurious detail. She had left it out on the counter while she cooked, leaving it in arm's reach. 
That was where it still sat. 
That was where her father was headed. 
For the first time, she felt fortunate for her father's aching joints and the long hours he had been on his feet—even before the trip to the forest. He was moving slow enough for her to jump up and cut him off, as if she were joining him in finding whatever he had fixed his attention on. 
"This?" she asked, plucking up another piece of mail that the Wayfields had sent along with Margret the day previous. "It is only a recipe from Mrs. Wayfield—for her potato soup and the bread with the bubbles she's so skilled at making." 
She waved the envelope for her father to see, though it was decidedly less ornate than that of the one she was currently hiding behind her back. If she could, she would have crossed her fingers in hopes of him falling for her ruse. 
He blinked as he took in what she was trying to pass off as the same piece of mail that had the wax seal and glimmering writing. "There was another letter, (Y/N). Where is it?" 
Her palms began to sweat. Her father would not be happy to know she had been requested by the Count, especially not on a day like today when he had undoubtedly spent plenty of time with those who accused Harry of being a monster. 
"I do not—" 
"What are you hiding behind your back?" 
"Nothing." Her response came too quickly. Her father's eyes narrowed. 
"(Y/N)." 
"It is really nothing," (Y/N) tired again, digging up any kind of excuse she could, "I was doing inventory for downstairs, and—" 
"(Y/N)," he said once more, his voice edging into something sharp and steely. Now wasn't the time, he was telling her. "Let me see." 
She only swallowed, keeping her hand stuck behind her back. 
Everything happened in a vacuum then. Time was ticking with her heartbeats while staying still in the middle of the kitchen. It didn't take much for her father to reach around and grab the letter, ripping it out of her hands before she could even tighten her grip.
There was panic sifting through her veins as she saw him look over the letter, the flap roughly pulled open with the letter folded open with careless fingers. She took quick strides towards him, intending to pull the stationary right out of his hands, to keep him from damaging the page any more or looking over the invitation. There was barely a fight, her father raising it out of her reach with his gaze hardening more and more with every word he read. 
"This is from him? And, you are trying to hide it from me?" he seethed, looking to her with blazing eyes, "After everything that has happened today, you are trying to protect him?" 
A lump sat heavily in her throat, (Y/N) attempting to swallow around it through her eyes never left the letter that was above her head. "It's not like that, father," she tried to argue, "You know he has nothing to do with all of that. It is only a dinner party; I think he is trying to get to know us more, and he knows me from shopping downstairs, so—"
"How do you know?!" he boomed, breaking for the first time (Y/N) had seen since her mother's passing. "How do you know he has nothing to do with the dead girls? How do you know he doesn't have everything to do with it all, (Y/N)? You think it is safe to attend a dinner party at his dungeon? You welcome his advances knowing all that you do?!" 
(Y/N) was rooted in her spot, listening to the tirade her father bubbled off. There was nothing she could say, nothing that could satisfy him no matter how carefully she picked her words. 
"I know he is a well-off man, (Y/N)," he continued, taking her silence as response enough, "But you do not know him, no matter what you have been telling yourself. You daydream, and romanticize, and let your head wander too far from reality. How can you find reason enough to think it is safe to attend a party at his home? Have you already forgotten what you saw in the woods? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to join them?" 
His words stung. He had always had a problem with her active imagination, the willingness she had to let her mind wander and come to the prettier conclusion, the softer avenue. Is that what she had done with Harry? Was that the missing piece? While she was wondering what it would be like to glide across a ballroom in his arms, feel the soft of his lips over her cheek, what the swirls of his curls would feel like between her fingers, the rest of the village was seeing the sharpened teeth and soulless eyes of a beast. Was she really that naive? 
"I have not forgotten about that night, (Y/N). I have not forgotten about the night you were missing, either—wherever you truly were." 
Dropping her gaze to the floorboards, (Y/N) felt her eyes sting. 
While she knew he couldn't have been completely accepting of her lie, this was the first time he had acknowledged that her word hadn't been completely true. 
"I am not letting the next body we find be yours, (Y/N). You are not going to that dinner party, do you understand me?" His command was emphasized with the sound of paper crumpling in his fist. He was ruining her invitation. 
(Y/N)'s tongue was too dry for her mouth, unable to form a single word. 
In a blurry moment, she was aware of her father stretching across the space, throwing the stove door open to reveal the small fire confined to the space. He tossed the letter in, the seal melting and slopping off the page while the paper singed and blackened at the edges before ashing away. 
"Do you understand me, (Y/N)? Look at me, and promise me you will not go." 
Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the page burn away. How could she have let this happen? 
"Do not take the last of my family away from me," her father pleaded, finally seeming to break through the cloud in her head. 
"I will not go," she agreed in a distant voice. "I understand." 
When her father wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) wanted to reciprocate with her heart though she could only do so with her arms. 
—————
(Y/N) crawled on her hands and knees, ignoring her designated companion for the afternoon, as she weeded the herb garden. Lucy chattered away behind her as if they both didn't know (Y/N)'s head was miles away.
In her imagination, she was at the grandiose castle that no one else in her village had seen the way she had. She was there with the kindest man she had ever met, the man who cared for her in the middle of a storm when he could have kept moving and abandoned her to her own devices. She saw him when he rushed across the hallway, panicked that she might not be as well as he thought. She saw him as he positioned himself between her and the group of rowdy men spilling out of the pub. Those small things were more than she was sure he even knew, actions that someone who was practically a stranger wouldn't do unless they had a good heart. 
She pinged between the castle, and back to the kitchen of her flat. There, she saw the way her father's eyes had blazed at her, anger boiling under his skin as he reminded her of what he had to lose should she end up one of those in the woods. She saw hints of the mourning man she had met after her mother's passing and her sister's departure. In the end, she knew he was nothing more than a scared father, seeing danger where she didn't. She had never seen him like that before. 
Was she truly so blind? Her father was scared enough to shout and holler at her, keep her from ever spending a second alone, while she couldn't find a single clue as to what would make him think as much when it came to Harry. If she were being honest, she found him to be a better man than her sister's husband, and yet her father had been more than happy for Arabeth when she announced her engagement. Was her head truly so high up in the clouds that she could miss something so terribly wrong with Harry? 
More than once, despite promising to her father that she wouldn't attend the dinner, she had considered what it would be like to go anyway. Though that thought never made it too far as soon as she remembered just how easily information like that would spread through the village—everyone was too nosy for their own good and would love to share a sighting of her up at the castle despite her vow. Besides, as dumbfounded as she was when it came to the aversion some felt to Harry, she couldn't deceive her father any more than she already had.
She loved and cared about her father, even if they were on the opposite sides of so many debates these days. He worried about her beyond reason at times, but she had to understand him. Even if that meant skipping out on the dinner party and going against the romantic heart sitting in her chest.
"Right, (Y/N)?" Lucy bubbled.
"Right," (Y/N) blindly answered, blinking out of her head. She didn't have a single idea of what exactly she was agreeing to, but it made Lucy happy. 
She had given the right answer.
That was all that mattered.
—————
Twirling around on ornately beaded shoes, (Y/N) looked up in wonder at the castle walls covered in gorgeous, hand-painted patterns. Her dress fanned out around her like creamy frosting on a tea cake. From steps away, she could feel Harry's eyes on her as she traipsed around his home, adoring each and every detail she found. 
"There is more, if you are ready to move on?" he offered, bouncing his eyebrows as if to tell her that she definitely wants to be ready to move on. She couldn't imagine what else he could show her on this tour that could top the places that had already blown her mind.
Nonetheless, she placed her palm in his offered hand, biting back a smile at the feel of his cool skin. 
He guided her through the halls until they hit the back door. Outside, a garden awaited. Trees full of dripping wisteria greeted her, the lilac shining like the moon above. Lines of honeyed foxglove and velvet roses drew the boundaries around a perfect lawn. He pulled her along with him to the middle, beams of moonlight highlighting the pale shade of green he had dressed in for the occasion.
"Dance with me?" he asked her, coal eyes adoring over her features. 
All it took was a nod of her head before she was pulled towards him, a symphony striking up without warning. 
He twirled her through the grass, fallen wisteria petals kicking up around her gown, the roses swaying as if reaching out to touch them. Harry looked like a prince, complete with soft hands and a tender smile. 
After twirling enough to get a giggle in her chest and head turning, Harry pulled her to his chest, settling down. 
"I have missed you so, darling," he crooned, lips by her ear, "I fear I can no longer wait such stretches between seeing you—I don't have the strength to deprive myself." Looking up at him, she saw deep shadows cast across one half of his face while the other was bathed in the pastel light of the stars. "You take up more and more of my mind everyday." 
An easy grin took place on her lips. He thought about her as much as she did he?
"Kiss me, darling." 
Eagerly stretching to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pucker her lips. She could feel the tip of his nose grazing her own, skin chilled against her heat. 
The faintest brush of his lips against hers, lashes fluttering—
Breathing in a gasp, (Y/N) was pulled from her dreams. Despite her stilted breathing, her heart had never been so steady in her chest.
While she tried to never read too much into her dreams, she couldn't help but to feel as if this night had been a sign. She had just decided that tomorrow night, she would stay home as usual, skipping the immaculate dinner at the Count's home, only to find herself touring his grounds in her dreams. 
She was supposed to join the fray tomorrow, she cemented. She would find a way to keep the event from her father, from the nosy neighbors, anything to keep the night from souring. 
So many variables sung through her, asking how at all she would make it up to the castle without an escort, how she would even skirt past her father in the first place, how, how, how. (Y/N) ignored them all for the time being, instead allowing a smile to settle on her features as she laid back. 
This time tomorrow, she would hopefully be in his arms.
—————
"Goodnight," (Y/N) pleasantly chirped, accepting her father's hug and kiss on the forehead. 
"Goodnight, love." His parting words were the last she heard from him before they both retreated to their separate bedrooms. 
The moon was bright in the sky as she closed the door to her bedroom. With her window open just a crack, there was little sound tittering through the village. The only vestiges of the busy Friday came from the tavern down the block that was just beginning to gear up for the night. 
While the prospect of others milling about the center of town was a worrying obstacle, (Y/N) was grateful for the kind of cover their presence would offer. The dinner party was set to begin in an hour, and she was going to have to sneak through town and up the winding path to the castle. 
There was no way she was going to make it on time, given the fact she had to wait to ensure her father was truly asleep, ready herself to attend such an event, and make the trip sans carriage. It wasn't an impossible list of tasks, she just hoped that she would still make it in time for dessert. 
Creeping across her room as quietly as possible, (Y/N) tried to prep herself as much as she could without alerting any of the creaky floorboards or sweeping too quickly through her room. She couldn't be sure exactly what her father could hear from his quarters. She couldn't risk him entering and finding her going against his direct wishes of staying away from the castle.
It wasn't until the only blinks of light came in the form of twinkling stars and a sliver of the moon, that (Y/N) was both ready and almost positive that her father was well asleep. She couldn't be completely sure of the latter unless she waltzed into the bedroom and saw him asleep with her own eyes, leaving her to assume the snoring she heard wasn't just an elaborate ruse on his part. Having raided her closet, attempting to find her most lavish of pieces, she was left in a plain purple dress with small beading here and there—it was the same gown she had worn to her sister's wedding, though it was nowhere near as ornate as what she could remember of Harry's estate. She hoped she would still be found acceptable at least. 
Donning her cloak, she took the first step in her plan. Every move she made was calculated and careful as she pried open her window enough to slip through. Dangling her feet over the edge, she felt around for the small ledge offered underneath her window from the sloped awning that wrapped around the building. It wasn't anywhere near stable enough to hold her weight for long, but it was enough to help her down before skirting towards more stable avenues. 
Her skirt caught on the sill for a lingering moment, keeping her from landing as gracefully as she had hoped on the textured ledge. With the heels of her boots clattering against the side of her home, (Y/N) cringed with her eyes crinkling closed. She could feel her heart in her ears, pumping against the confines of her throat as she waited for the slam of her father's door. Long, laborious moments passed before she realized with flooding relief that she had garnered no attention; her father was still well asleep and the patrons of the pub kept up their own noise down the street. She allowed herself then to carefully slide down the uneven awning on her bottom, until she could safely hop down to the soft soil at the back of her home. 
The landing was nowhere near graceful, but it was silent. Straightening up and brushing off the debris that landed on her gown, (Y/N) allowed a small sense of accomplishment to take her. For her first time sneaking away, she had done alright for herself. 
Peering at her herb garden instinctively, she could make out the gaze of her moon-eyed black cat. The kitten played with the bugs floating around, stopping for a moment to match (Y/N)'s eyes. 
A small smile perked over her lips. She could only take this as a good sign—she was doing what she was meant to tonight. 
The first few strides away from her home were done as quietly as possible, with her head down and hood of her cloak on. There was nothing going on in her head other than the hope and prayers that she would make it out of this without being caught. She wished the most pleasant and calming dreams upon her father, anything to keep him deeply in his sleep. 
It was when she had cleared the block of her home without a single person spotting her that she had picked up the pace. The event had to have started at least a half an hour ago, and she had to hustle there if she wanted to experience any of the get-together before the festivities ended. If she was quick, she could make it to the castle within the hour. 
That was if the dark didn't scare her off first, of course. 
That juvenile fear followed her on her trek, breathing down her neck enough to push her into bursts of jogging over the path until she felt as if she had outran her invisible enemy. More than once, glancing towards the woods that weren't that far from the path, her active imagination was sparked, showing her all the things she hoped she would never truly see. 
Forcing herself to keep her focus, (Y/N) did her best to keep her head down and attention placed on the tail end of the party she was eager to catch. Working over the steep hills and sloping declines, she attempted to push herself to go as fast as possible while still keeping her breath in her corset. Every time she looked ahead, she allowed a small celebration knowing that the castle was looming closer and closer with every pace. 
As time ticked on and a bead of sweat dropped down the back of her dress, (Y/N) could only hope she made it in time and wasn't turned away despite the disheveled state she would no doubt turn up in. 
Her legs pumped harder at the thought.
—————
(Y/N) didn't have much memory tied to the lawn of the castle from the last time she had visited. She wasn't even conscious during the arrival, and her departure had seen her entirely wrapped up in Harry himself. This left the sight of the foliage around the otherwise dreary exterior quite the sight. 
As if she had conjured it herself, Harry had what could only be described as a grove of wisteria trees surrounding the grounds. Lavender petals swept across the ground, leaving what emulated a floral moat around the castle itself. From down in the village, she couldn't glimpse any of this, their forest having cut off sight of the magnificence. It was along the facade of the home that she saw long flower beds filled with the gaping mouths of foxglove stalks, blood red roses with thorn laden stems, and bushels of small white flowers growing from purple spotted stems. Hemlock, she knew them to be called—another poisonous variant Harry had unwittingly planted. 
Out front, there wasn't a single carriage or horse awaiting its master's arrival. She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but maybe the evening was going to drag so long that everyone's transportation had been shooed away for the time being. 
Scaling the sloping hill that led up to the grandiose entrance of the castle, (Y/N)'s huffed breath created small puffs of white in front of her. Despite the chilled temperature, she was still overheated rom her strenuous trek all the way up. 
Approaching the door, she gave herself a moment to primp over the details of her appearance. Pulling her hood from her head, she attempted to smooth out her hair, hoping the twine she had holding back specific strands could hold for a bit longer. Dabbing at her features with the neck of her cloak, she tried to eradicate any sweat that had prickled her features. Though she knew she was dressed nowhere near as nicely as she figured Harry's other friends would be, she still brushed her hands down her dress in a final act before raising her hand to knock at the door. 
Her heartbeat stilled in her chest as she waited. 
When she first heard the click of the knob on the other side, she immediately straightened her posture. 
While there wasn't much she could expect, given there was nothing there for her to compare this evening to, (Y/N) definitely hadn't anticipated having Harry be the one to greet her. After finally meeting one of his staff, he had thought the footman that had delivered her invitation would be the one to deal with the menial task of welcoming her in (or shooing her away). 
Instead, she was gifted with the sight of Harry in an all black getup. The only pops of color came in the form of a forest green cravat and the hint of rouge on his lips. She shied away at the thought of the flush coming from the mouth of a young woman. His skin was just as creamy as she remembered, the planes of his face cut and severe. Nonetheless, when he looked at her, softened edges jumped out, gentling even his dark gaze. 
Making an effort to keep herself from floating over to him as if a moth to a black flame, (Y/N) rooted herself in her spot. "I am so sorry I'm late," she offered, her voice a bit watery and uneven, "I hope you can still accept me, despite the hour." 
The smile that had filled her dreams bloomed across Harry's features, his rouged lips acting like rose petals. 
"You are not late at all," he told her, eyes bright and dazzling, "I could never start without you, my guest of honor." 
(Y/N) felt flushed as he welcomed her in with a flourish, bowing out of the way as if she had any right to that caliber of greeting. 
"Guest of honor?" she asked, stepping over the threshold with shy paces. If she had known as much she would have ran less and dressed nicer. 
"Did I not tell you?" he smiled, shutting the door behind her as she untied the neck of her cloak, "I thought I had put that on every invitation." 
"I think it may have slipped your mind," she told him, playing along with his game. 
Shrugging, he gave her a roguish smile, taking her cloak only to throw it across the back of a lounger planted in her foyer. "It may have." Sidling up next to her, he offered his arm for her to take. (Y/N) settled her hand in the crook of his elbow, biting back the fluttering grin that plucked at her lips. "I suppose we have time for that tour now that you're here, right?" 
Instead of following right after him, (Y/N) turned to him with confusion knitting her brows. She knew he had to be a bit unconventional given his reclusive status, but she figured he knew better than this. 
"But, your guests. Should we not join them for dinner?" 
Amusement lit up his features, shatters of green appearing in his irises. Dipping his chin as he looked at her, he whispered, "May I share a secret with you?" 
(Y/N) couldn't help but to fall into a conspiratorial role with him. She had hoped she would earn a chance to learn everything about him. "Of course, you may." 
Harry huffed a laugh at her intrigue. Ducking his head, he positioned his mouth by her ear. He was close enough she could feel a chill radiating from his skin, his breath fanning across her own. 
"I only invited you." 
Rearing back, (Y/N) felt both flattered and bewildered by his admission. "But," she started, searching his eyes for any kind of tease, "I thought this was supposed to be a party. It's not much of one if there's only me." 
He gave her a shrug, shoulder bouncing with her hand still settled in the bend of his elbow. "Why would I invite others if I am only wishing to see you?" 
Flattery won out over the bewilderment she felt then, a shy smile taking her features. The only way she knew she wasn't dreaming was the degraded state of her dress—she always dressed herself immaculately in her imagination. 
"I am especially happy I could make it, then," she decided, peeking up at him through the fan of her lashes.
The feel of his gaze tracing over her face had (Y/N) straightening her posture with a tickle going down her spine. It was if he were taking note of everything, keeping her expressions to himself for later. A pleased smile plucked at the corner of his lips at whatever he found as he dropped his gaze down her neck. 
"I am, too; more than you know," he shared after a heartbeat, collecting himself before setting his gaze forward. He bobbed his arm under her grip, edging her towards the grand. "Shall we?" 
Though she felt a touch of deja-vu, finding herself in another predicament where she was unchaperoned with Harry at her side once more, (Y/N) was beginning to no longer care what even her father would say should he catch her. No wonder Harry kept to himself and did as he pleased—it was rather satisfying. 
With the silence their only companion, she nodded her head. 
"We shall." 
A dazzling smile spread over his lips. 
—————
(Y/N) was enchanted as she traipsed through Harry's home, her hold on him being the only thing keeping her from being lured away by whatever trinket or art piece that caught her eye. He pointed things out as they went, allowing her to fawn over the grandness he lived in. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a fond smile on his lips as he watched her. Though she didn't have an exact idea of what it was like to go on a promenade through royal grounds for a courting date, she figured this is what it felt like. 
His home reflected his personal taste for dark colors and luxurious details. Vases full of the purple blossom she had found out front lined the halls, mixing with the musk of the familiar herbs she sold to him. Deep greens seemed to be the running theme through the color scheme, allowing any other hue to emulate a bloom through the brush of the forest floor, or the night sky peeking through the canopy of trees. There were rooms upon rooms shielded behind heavy walnut doors, no less than a handful down each hall he took her to. There were too many for (Y/N) to keep track of, though Harry seemed to know exactly what was behind each door without a moment's thought; even when she swore they had been turned around and looped in a circle, he knew just where they were with a description of every hidden room. 
With the sheer amount of space he was showing her, Harry didn't have time to show her every single room, to push open the door and introduce her to the space, instead offering the highlights as they went. (Y/N)'s favorites came in the form of a budding library (the walls were complete shelves along with freestanding cases that cozied up a sitting area in the middle; the shelves held enough books to keep anyone busy for over a year but there was still room to grow, giving the possibility to read for a lifetime when full), an adorably grey tea room, and a painter's studio set up for portraits. Even with those spaces that took (Y/N)'s breath and sparked a world of imagination, her most preferred spot was the newly erected structure out behind the castle. It was a greenhouse, he'd said. An entire home the size of her own flat with the sole purpose of nursing and growing any and every kind of plant. 
"It's a budding interest of mine," he said when they had stopped to admire the glass-paneled house through a stretching window of the castle, "You've inspired me." 
It was like he knew that would have her blood warming and her teeth sinking into the pillow of her bottom lip. 
Soon enough they turned down a hallway familiar to (Y/N). This was the same wing that housed her room he boarded her in during the storm. 
"Remember this?" he prodded with raised brows, taking her down the walkway. 
Tipping her head back, she set her sights on the ceiling. Above was the same muted floral mural that had been painted across the rest of the castle ceiling. With her eyes following the thorned vibes through the different blooms, (Y/N) absently nodded her head. 
"This is where my room is." 
It wasn't until she heard his huffed laugh that she realized what she had said. Her eyes rounded out in horror with embarrassment warming her skin. 
"I-I'm so sorry—I misspoke—"
"It's alright," he soothed her, flexing his arm under her hold, "You are the only guest to have ever stayed in this room, so it is yours in my eyes as well."
Harry led her towards the chambers, pushing open the door as if it was another new space for her to explore. Inside, it was just as she remembered, thick velvets and cozy furs. Another bouquet of flowers was delicately perched on the table as if in wait for her. The only difference came in the ornate wardrobe that was now pushed against the wall in front of the four-poster bed. The doors were wide open, showcasing whatever hung inside though from where she stood, (Y/N) couldn't see a single stitch of what it was. 
"Go take a look," he told her, dropping his arm as he urged her forward. 
Without the anchor of his body, (Y/N) drifted towards the open wardrobe, her hands a bundle at her waist. When she saw what exactly had been showcased inside, she felt her jaw fall into a gape. 
Hung up on a satin wrapped hanger was the most gorgeous gown she had ever seen. The fabric was glimmering and slick like silk, redder than anything she had ever seen—as if the fibers had been dyed with fresh blood. The skirt was full, layers of crinoline underneath though the overlay still draped and folded atop the filler. The bodice was a stiff corset, cut with scooping neckline that made (Y/N) want to blush at what it would look like on, tapering straps holding the whole garment upright on the hanger. She kept herself from reaching out to turn the dress, though she wanted to know if she really did see the edge of a bow stationed at the waist for it there was even more dress to be fawned over.
"What do you think?" Harry prodded, his voice closer behind her than she remembered. 
She kept her eyes forward, on the crimson masterpiece. She could only imagine how long it would take to craft something so stunning. 
"It is gorgeous," she sighed. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she turned to look at him with a pleasant smile on her lips. She wasn't here as the guest of honor to give out her fashion advice. "Just like the rest of your home," she recovered as if she hadn't been standing, staring at the dress for a handful of minutes, "Breath-taking." 
His pale lavender lids were on display as he looked at her through the fan of his lashes, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "Thank you," he told her, "But, what about the gown?" 
"Oh," she sounded, happily taking the excuse to lay her eyes upon the dress once more. Was it possible more of the skirt had unfurled, as if the fabric was closer to that of a blooming rose than a stationary garment? "I've never seen anything more beautiful," she shared honestly, "It would be impossible to find anything to compare." 
"You won't have to worry about that," he mused, stepping around her to pull the hanger from the rod. "Since this one is yours already." 
(Y/N)'s jaw dropped at his declaration. Her eyes downturned as she took in the full of the gown, unsure of what exactly to say to such a claim. 
"I-I," she floundered, unable to find her words, "I'm sorry?" 
Harry looked genuinely pleased with her reaction, proud of himself for finding something she clearly loved so much. "I had this made for you," he told her, presenting the gown to her as he held it up, "When I decided that I wanted to invite you over, I figured I couldn't exactly celebrate my guest of honor without a gift. I hope I didn't assume too much, but I thought you might even like to wear it this evening." 
She had been struck speechless as she listened. Not once had she ever received a gift so grand, so gorgeously outside of her means. 
"But, please," Harry continued when she didn't give an answer, his expression falling some though he tried to hide it, "Do not take this as something you have to accept if you do not want it. You look wonderful already—heartbreakingly so, if I'm honest—and I do not want to force you to change if you'd rather not." 
Unable to hold back her own plume of laughter, (Y/N) shook her head. In what world would her refashioned nightgown look heartbreakingly wonderful? As she had said before, there was nothing that could compare to this dress. 
There had to be etiquette that came with accepting a gift of this caliber, but (Y/N) preferred to use her ignorance to her advantage at the moment. It couldn't be considered too offensive if she loved something he had made just for her. 
"I love it," she reiterated, sneaking a cautious hand out to trace her fingertips over the silken fabric, "I would love to wear it tonight, Harry." 
He brightened immediately at her acceptance, relief touching his features now that he was no longer floundering over his present. "I'm glad," he cemented, laying the garment on the edge of the bed with a flourish, "I will give you a moment to change before we start for dinner, if that's alright?" 
While the draw of the gown was significant, (Y/N) kept her eyes on the man who had given it to her. A giddy smile was on her lips as she looked up at him. With this gift, she would almost look as if she belonged at his side—it would make sense to see her on his arm to a stranger's eyes. 
"Thank you, Harry."
Bowing out of the room, he stopped to tip his head to her. "It is my pleasure, darling." 
—————
Having had enough practice with tying her own corsets and stuffing herself into various dresses for church and other village-wide occasions after her sister moved away, (Y/N) didn't take much time to change into the crimson couture. She had lingered over the process a bit, savoring the feel of the expensive fabric and the novelty tying system on the back (there really was a bow at the bustle, too!), but she had been more excited to meet with Harry once again. Once she had the dress adorning her body—the piece a perfect fit—, she had spotted a few extra pieces lying around the wardrobe that she couldn't help but to use to her advantage. 
A pair of beaded red slippers were snug in the corner of the wardrobe, levels above what she currently had on her feet and had trekked up to his castle in. On a shelf built in above the rod the dress had previously been hung up on, were a pair of long white gloves—the kind (Y/N) could only picture on a princess. She couldn't help herself as she drew on the gloves, the satin glimmering alongside her dress. Using the twine she already had in her hair, she tried to twist her strands into something more elaborate to match her new attire. When she finished, she had settled on an updo, keeping everything out of the way as to show off the gown in its entirety. 
Looking at herself in the mirror, (Y/N) had never seen herself in such a light. The scooping neckline of the dress showed off more skin than she knew a woman could even show in public, the swells of her breasts pushed up and swelling over the corset. The skirt draped itself over her form, creasing and folding in waves that flourished out before hitting the ground. Turning to the side, she could glimpse the bow that had been fastened to the bustle of her dress, a detail she loved more than she had thought. Her gloves came up to the mid of her bicep, the addition making her feel more regal than she had any business to. She felt the only thing missing was a rouge to be swiped over her lips and a red flush to her cheeks. 
Leaving behind her now designated room, her rudimentary gown left behind in a puddle on the floor, (Y/N) half expected Harry to be stationed across the hall from her like the last time she had emerged. Instead, she found herself alone in the stretching corridor. Her heels clicked over the floor as she made her way down. 
While she had already had an eyeful of the space the pair of times she had been escorted down this same hall, she still found something new to look at with every turn of her head. If not for the fact Harry had to be waiting for her on the other side of the castle, she could have luxuriated for hours here. 
Traipsing through for the first time on her own, (Y/N) noticed small details she had overlooked in Harry's presence—particularly the lack of staff. Other than the footman she had seen a week prior, there didn't seem to be anyone else here with Harry despite the size of his home. She would have figured there was a team of people, different departments and leads that would have been tasked with taking care of the grounds, the different wings, everything. And yet, she seemed to be the only beating heart around. 
Perhaps he wanted to have privacy for the night, she figured. Harry definitely was the type to request something of the sort. 
Retracing her steps until she found the same set of grand stairs Harry had escorted her down after she recovered from her fainting spell during the storm, (Y/N) was proud of herself for navigating the maze that was this castle. Just as she crested the mezzanine before the final set of steps to the ground floor, she caught sight of her waiting prince. 
Harry seemingly hadn't realized she was there as she caught him cozying up to a familiar black cat. She could hear the low murmurs of his croons to the moon-eyed kitten, petting his fingers under the scruff of her neck while she leaned into his touch. (Y/N) couldn't contain her own coo once she saw him press a kiss between the cat's ears. 
With that, he realized he was no longer alone, having been caught doling out affection to what (Y/N) had previously thought to be a stray. 
"(Y/N)," he started, gently setting the kitten down back on her paws before she scurried away. He still hadn't looked at her as he brushed his hands down the front of his coat, "I am so sorry. I hadn't realized you were—" 
His words were suddenly stuck in his throat when he cast his gaze upon her. 
(Y/N) have never seen him at a loss for words before, his dark eyes wide with mouth in a soft gape as looked at her. While she had felt his eyes on her before, this moment was different than what she had experienced prior. It was as if his hands were on her, fingertips glancing down her throat, sweeping over her collarbones and cleavage. Her bare skin was chilled where she swore she felt his eyes linger, goosebumps awakening. Was this how he felt when she looked at him? Could he feel how drawn to him she was? Was her romantic heart too high up in the clouds as she assumed that he could experience that similar warm chest and twirling gut that she did when she saw him?
There were intentions behind his eyes—more than what was acceptable for him to say out loud. 
"You look... I don't think there are any words that could describe how you look right now, actually." 
Despite the shy peal of laughter his words elicited from (Y/N), he was thoroughly serious as he spoke. The sentiment only made her heart flutter in her chest.
"Thank you," she smiled, descending the stairs. Harry didn't hesitate to offer her his arm when she reached the landing, pride puffing his chest when she took it without question. "I hope it's alright I'm using a little extra I found in the wardrobe." 
"It is more than alright," he beamed at her, dazzling smile to match the fractures of green swimming to the surface of his coal eyes, "Everything in there is yours now." 
"You don't mean that," she laughed off, diligently following him as he brought her to the dining room. 
"The whole wing could be yours if you asked," he countered, his offer seemingly serious despite his grin. 
Before she could argue, he pushed open a grand door, leading her into the dining room. Inside, a long table sat at the center of the room. Ornate candles lit the space, showcasing hints of gold and shining onyx among the otherwise muted room. On the table was a feast (Y/N) had never seen the likes of before. 
Meats, cheeses, wines, and breads were placed all throughout on pristine china. Steam rolled off the dishes in alluring waves, like the smoke from a candle freshly snuffed. How his staff had pulled something off so elaborate without making a single noise, she couldn't comprehend, but she wasn't about to start asking questions in the face of greatness. 
"My goodness," she murmured. Looking at this spread, she was suddenly grateful that she had taken such an exhaustive route up here. She had all the room in the world to try everything in front of her.
"I was unable to ask for your favorites before tonight, but I hope you'll find something to your liking," Harry prattled, much too modest given the sight before them. 
"I have no doubt," (Y/N) responded, allowing Harry to guide her to an empty chair at the head of the table. 
Once he helped her settle in, he took his own seat on the opposite end of the table. "I hope you don't mind," he started, a goblet in hand already filled with a deep wine, "But I told my staff to take the night off. We'll have to serve ourselves, but this way we'll have more privacy." A beat passed before a furrow appeared in his brows. "Unless you would prefer their presence. I know this is our first formal meeting, so..." 
"No, no, it's alright," she waved him off, not feeling the need to have others present while she dined with him. Besides, she would hate to have been promised the night to herself only to be called back. "I think we'll be able to keep a handle on ourselves."
(Looking down, she just missed the way Harry looked at her with his dark eyes gleaming and a shrewd curl to his lips at her words).
While it was surely odd for Harry, (Y/N) didn't mind serving herself—she did it every day, anyway. With her eyes bigger than her stomach, she couldn't help but to overfill her plate with the way she wanted a bite of everything. Before she knew it, there were three different cheeses, more kinds of dinner bread than she knew even existed, and helpings of figgy chicken, creamy potatoes, and rosemary scented greens. If she could get away with it, she would be grabbing seconds. 
Flicking her gaze up when she realized just how rude it must be to be so engrossed in her meal when her host and sole company was just across the table, she found his eyes already on her over the rim of his wine glass. The crystal just barely hid the amused curl of his lips. 
"I apologize," she mumbled, dropping her gaze though she could still feel his eyes on her features. 
"No need," he said, waving her off, "I'm glad you want to try everything." 
Eased some, she picked up one of the gleaming silver forks complimenting her place setting and began picking at her food. "Do you have any favorites?" she questioned, feeling a bit silly to be asking what his favorite food was. 
He shrugged in response, canting his head some as he raised his wine glass. "I tend to favor the wine at a dinner party, if 'm honest." She watched as he took another sip, the deep red color seemingly staining the crystal. The center of his lips even seemed to take on the dye, emulating that tint of rouge he had started the night with. The wine lingered in the bowl of his glass, seemingly thicker than any spirit she had seen before. "I'd rather hear about your favorites, (Y/N)," Harry said, tipping his head towards her with his features lit up with the amber candlelight. 
A small curl tugged at her lips then. It was an interesting feeling, being so drawn to him and finding comfort in his presence, then remembering that he didn't even know the color of the rainbow she preferred or the season she thrived the most under. Trivialities didn't seem so important when there was that innate need to be around him. 
"What do you want to know?" she preened, unsure of where to start when it came to herself. 
The reflection of the candlelight emulated stars in his eyes as he fixed his gaze to her. His eyes felt like a pair of hands on her body once more. 
It was only when he flicked them up to match her own, that he spoke again: 
"Everything." 
—————
"... I had never seen my sister so mad at me before," (Y/N) laughed, setting her chin in her hand, unconsciously leaning towards Harry from where he relocated to sit at her side. 
The dinner part of the evening had ended some time ago, (Y/N) satisfied with her fill while Harry nursed his never-ending glass of wine. The attention had shifted then, turning to any anecdote of information he could pull out of her on his quest to learn the everything he requested to know about her. Soon enough the space between served to be too much for either of their liking, ending with Harry sidling up beside her, taking one of the unoccupied seats at her side. The intensity of his gaze was unwavering as he listened to anything and everything she had to say, unwilling to miss a single detail no matter how minute the story it was that she shared. More than once (Y/N) had attempted to redirect some of the conversation to him, only for him to casually mention the kinds of travels he'd been on and the people he'd met before he brushed it off in favor of hearing more of her voice. She wondered if he even knew just how intriguing he was, how fascinating his own stories would be to someone like her, who had stayed in the same village all her life. 
"I could imagine," he smiled at her, the cut planes of his features having melted down into soft curves and rounded edges, "You sound like you were a little terror." 
(Y/N) was prepared to counter his teasing remark when the echoing chime sounded from the grandfather clock stationed at the head of the room. The heavy gonging detailed out the time having turned into midnight—much later than (Y/N) had anticipated staying out when she had snuck out at nine. 
Her shoulders fell when she realized that her night had to be coming to an end soon.
"What is wrong?" Harry asked, picking up on the decline in her expression. 
"It's getting very late—later than I thought," she started, turning to him with regret ready on her features, "I won't be able to stay much longer if I don't want anyone noticing I'm gone." 
Harry finally seemed to pick up on the time then. She had shyly shared with him earlier that she hadn't exactly gained permission to join him for the evening, and had still gone anyway, making it so her cover for the night had to be pristine should she want to keep herself out of trouble. 
"I suppose it is rather late," he mused, a pinch appearing between his brows as he stared at the clock, "But, we still have some time, don't we? I don't know if I'm ready to send you home yet." 
The flattery went straight through the ladder of her ribs and to her heart as she listened to him. While she knew better than to linger longer than what she could handle, she knew she wasn't ready for the evening to end either. 
"I just do not want to scare my father again, not after I had disappeared during the storm." 
"Was he very upset?" he asked, concern in his eyes when he turned to face her. 
(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth. It wasn't a particularly light topic bringing up the reaction her neighbors had when it came to him. "I hadn't told him that I was with you that night, but I think he knew anyway. There are some... gossips in the village that I think tried to convince him that you had hurt me or tried to keep me away from home." 
His brow creased further at her words. "I am well aware that there are some... unsavory attitudes present when it comes to me and the fact that I don't associate much with the day-to-day of the village and that there have been concerns when it comes to what is being found in the woods, but," Harry paused, his gaze intent on hers with the shattered green of his eyes floating in his irises, "You know I would never hurt you, right, (Y/N)? I care about you—more than I probably should, but the last thing I would ever want is to bring you harm." 
She was not the person that needed to be convinced of his intentions, (Y/N) having seen the genuine concern in his eyes when she woke from her fainting spell, having felt his soft touch, having heard the gentle way he spoke to her as if she were a wounded animal. She knew where his intentions lied and she felt safe within them, but she was still taken aback at the clear set of his eyes, honesty lining his features. She had never doubted him before, but now there was no room for any kind of counter argument that could wiggle in the back of her mind. 
"I believe you," she told him, her voice a sudden whisper as if sharing a secret not to be heard by the walls, "I know you better than they do, and I'll trust your intentions over any rumor. I trust you." 
Harry's eyes rounded out as he listened to her, taking in her genuine take the same way she had his. 
"Thank you," he smiled, matching the soft volume of her voice. Glancing once more at the clock, Harry stood to the full of his height with his hand outstretched towards her, "I don't want to land you in any trouble, but if you have some extra time to spare with me, there was one more place I wanted to show you before the night is over." 
She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm in his, the chill of his skin leaving no other effect but goosebumps on her own. 
—————
(Y/N)'s heels clicked on the glossy, black floor under their feet as Harry escorted her to a grand set of double doors they had initially passed by during his tour. He held a proud smile on his lips when he pushed the door open, the hinges gliding without a noise.
Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) was drawn in by the sprawling ballroom inside. It was the kind of space that would fit in perfectly for royalty, she thought as she fawned over the sparkling floors and high ceilings. Green and gold accented the space, more flowers spilling out here and there. The walls were elaborately furnished with filigree and art, mirrors strategically placed as if the space didn't look big enough on its own. 
"I've never actually used this room before," Harry murmured, following after her as she took in the space. 
"How could you not?" she answered in awe, twirling around in search of every detail, "I would host parties every night with something like this." 
There was amusement in his tone when he responded, "I think it's rather obvious that I didn't care much for other's company—except for you, of course." 
Her skin warmed at his words. He was teasing her again. She didn't know what to say, only biting back a shy smile as she settled on her feet, turning to find him already looking at her with a clear gaze. 
"I was hoping, before the night is over, that you might dance with me." 
Harry offered her a pale hand, his features softened in wait for her response. 
She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm over his, fingers curling into a hold. "But there's no music?" she said, canting her head. 
Pulling her towards him, Harry matched her gaze. "That's nothing to worry about," he shared, his voice suddenly a low secret between the two.
While (Y/N) didn't exactly understand how he was going to replicate any music without a single musician present, she didn't have time to ask before he was placing a firm hand on her waist and clasping their joined hands in a stiff hold. Instinctively, (Y/N) settled her own hand on his shoulder falling in line with his moves. 
(Y/N) was far from well versed in the proper moves needed to pull off any kind of elaborate routine, but as she looked into his eyes, she didn't need to think before she fell in line with Harry's guidance. After only a moment, the clacking of her heels the only noise, suddenly the ballroom was filled with the delicate singing of a violin and thrumming keys from a pianoforte. 
She wanted to turn her head, to see if there was a hidden stage that she had missed, but she held her gaze steady with Harry's. A dazzling smile pulled at his features, his hand squeezing at her waist as he twirled them around. 
"Better?" he murmured, his voice mixing with the music. 
She could only manage a nod of her head, her own lips beginning to curl to mimic the set of his own. 
Taking a deep breath into her lungs, (Y/N) dropped herself squarely in the moment. This was everything her romantic heart had always desired: flourishing music while she twirled in a gown made only by the finest hands, a handsome, heart-fluttering partner at her side. Poems were written with the sole purpose of attempting to put into words what the feeling she had in her chest was like. Paintings were made depicting the light that came with dancing with one's beloved. Her own dreams urged her to find something like this in her lifetime. 
Time stood still where she was, feeling the cool weight of Harry's hand in her, and the effortless gliding he evoked from her. The music swelled and dipped, taking her through the seasons with Harry twirling and holding her every hour. It could have been days that she stayed there, her eyes fluttered closed with a quiet smile on her face, and she would have barely realized. 
Blinking her eyes open, she saw Harry looking down at her. This was her one—the man in her sonnet, the one in her portrait, who she'd seen in her dreams. 
"I wish I knew what the inside of your head was like," he told her, drawing her away from him only to twirl her in a swirl of crimson. He brought her back to his chest, his hand on her waist slipping to loop around the curve—highly inappropriate though (Y/N) wouldn't dream of stopping him. 
"It is nothing special," she shied away from his words, turning her head as he led them around in the ballroom in a structured circle.
"I doubt that," he said, dipping lower until his lips were at her ear, "You are nothing less than absolutely special, (Y/N)." 
Harry drew her away from him once more, holding his hand up above her head as she was twirled. As she spun, she just barely caught her reflection in the gilded framed mirror hung on the wall. The slash of her red dress caught her eye first, bright against the deep green and dark shades splashed throughout the space. 
But the most jarring part of the sight was the fact that she was dancing alone. 
Harry was nowhere to be seen in that small glimpse, her hand holding nothing but the thin air. 
Before she could truly catch any kind of detail, she had been spun away and back to Harry's chest. 
Not even a single heartbeat of time had been missed while (Y/N)'s skin erupted into goosebumps. What an odd trick of the light, she thought. She must have had more wine than she initially figured.
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, keeping her firm against his chest though now there was a cream between his brows. 
Shaking her head, (Y/N) cast that glimpse out of her head. It wouldn't have been that hard for him to blend in with the rest of the ballroom, she argued, with the way he was dressed in all black. 
"Yes, I'm alright. Just a little dizzy, I think," she laughed, tightening her hold on his hand. If she really was growing that dizzy and the effects of the wine hitting her that hard, she was going to have to make a real effort to stay upright. 
"Stay close, darling," Harry murmured, "I've got you." 
(Y/N) all but keened at his words, doing as he said and happily staying close to him with the planes of his chest pressing against her corseted breasts. The music reached heights and valleys around them, the strings of the violin singing in a tenor (Y/N) had never dreamed of hearing so smooth. She was transfixed in the moment, twirling and stepping, allowing Harry to guide her every which way. Even when her inadequacy showed, he kept his hold on her strong, catching her through the stumbles with a small smile as if a promise to keep that misstep between them and this empty ballroom. 
A gasp left her lips when Harry stopped them only to fluidly dip her backwards with his face hovering over hers. He held her steady with his arms turning into steady bars around her back and her own looping around his neck. Her gasp turned into a fluff of giggles leaving her throat, never having felt anything like this before. Harry laughed with her, lingering in that stance as she dropped her head back, extending her neck with her eyes closed. 
Time stood still then, (Y/N) luxuriating in the feel of faux-floating in his arms. She swallowed when she felt the icy touch of the very tip of his nose skimming the column of her throat. She felt her lips stretch into a dreamy smile as she cracked her eyes open.
To the side of them, hanging from its gilded frame, was the opulently large mirror she had peeked at a handful of minutes prior. This time, when she peered at her reflection, she could no longer deny what she had seen before.
With her eyes wide, (Y/N) saw herself hovering in mid-air, no other soul present in the ballroom. There were indents in her dress where she knew Harry was holding her, where her skirt flared around their feet and had been pushed back by his legs. But she was the only one seen in the reflection.
Her mouth dropped into a gape, a quiet gasp falling from between her lips. 
"(Y/N)?" he started, righting her position as she went stiff in his arms. She couldn't tear her eyes off of the mirror, watching as the space around her interacted with her with phantom hands. "What is wrong? What are you—" 
In that moment, though she could only see him from the corner of her eye, she figured Harry had to have caught on to what she was seeing—or not seeing, really. 
That pause in the universe as they danced finally resumed in that moment, the trance broken. (Y/N) scrambled out of his arms, dropping her own from around his neck as she stepped back. Her heels clacked over the floor, her skirt dragging. There was no more music tinkling through the space, only echoing silence. 
A pinch knitted her brows together, her head tipping as if she could catch another angle and suddenly see Harry in the glass. 
"D-Do you see it, too?" she whimpered, hoping against all odds that she wasn't losing her mind right now. What was in that wine? 
"(Y/N)," he started, stepping towards her with the movement echoing in the silent hall, "I can explain." 
That had her whirling around in her spot, decidedly moving out of reach from. His response was far from reassuring. 
"What?" she sounded. What was there to explain? All he was supposed to tell her was that yes, he saw his reflection missing too, but that mirror had always been faulty—he was working on fixing the issue, it was nothing for her to worry about. 
This time when she looked at him, (Y/N) swore Harry's eyes had grown darker. The smatterings of green had shied away, leaving only the coal-like expanses against his pale skin. 
He was real, right in front of her. She felt the planes of his body, the strength of his grip. She had seen him through the village, let him hold her, she had seen him interact with others as well. Why couldn't the mirror see him? 
"A-Are you a ghost?" (Y/N) choked out, feeling as crazy as her question sounded. Mary and Ethel would be proud of the nonsensical explanation her brain had handed her. 
When she saw him roll his lips between his teeth, gaze flitting past her and towards the mirror at her back, (Y/N) felt her spine stiffen.
"Not quite," he started, expression grim, "It's complicated." 
While she hadn't exactly had a preferred response in mind, she figured it would have been better than a simple declaration of it’s complicated. (Y/N) began backing away from him then, clarity entering her mind in a chilling sweep. 
Her head had been so in the clouds, luxuriating amongst the swelling music and fanciful notes. She had been too preoccupied with everything Harry, the way she was drawn to him, keening under his attention and mooning over every word of flattery he gave her. Now, details began to fall into place. 
His skin, in her hand and pressed to her chest—even through layers of clothing—was cold. She had never given it much thought, just assuming that he was one of the few that ran colder than others and took the chills easier. Now, she could only see the pale pallor of his skin and the temperature and wonder how easily he would fit in with the corpses found in the forest. His eyes were always so dark, (Y/N) barely unable to differentiate the center from the iris, only when she squinted and took the time could she pick out the shades of green inside. Normal people didn't just... lose their reflection. Mirrors caught it all, no matter how dingy or foggy. Harry was invisible to the glass. 
Her eyes dropped to the center of his lips where the pillows housed a small tint, red and warm. 
"What are you?" 
When he took a cautious step towards her, (Y/N) all but stumbled back, itching to keep the current chasm of space between them. Harry stopped where he stood then, dropping his gaze from hers. 
(Y/N)'s heartbeat sounded in her ears while she awaited his response. 
"It is... hard to explain," he answered, "Can I show you something that might help? My library—I can show you there—" 
Drowning out the rest of his words over a rush of blood pumping through her body, (Y/N) stared at him. Her insides twisted as he took in more and more of him. Her father had always said that with her head so far up in the clouds, the fall was going to shatter her when it happened. It appeared that fall was happening now. 
Was he really a demon like the church women said? Was he the predator that committed those heinous acts scattered about the woods? Warnings had been everywhere: the way she was drawn to him like a moth to a singing flame, the way he reeled her in wish his unmatched beauty, and the way everyone around her seemed to know better. She had willingly walked into the lion's den, though there was no telling what kind of beast had truly laid claim to the territory. She was nothing but a stray bunny, a lamb separated from the flock, that had witless fallen into a trap. 
"(Y/N)," Harry said, his voice cutting through her whirling thoughts, "Please. Don't be afraid of me." She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, his features tight with shining eyes. "I promised you, remember? That I would never harm you. You said you believed me." 
Despite how disconnected she wanted to be, (Y/N) felt something in her chest crack as she listened to him. She was scared and confused, overwhelmed by the unknown that was standing in the room with her, but there was still the person she did know there as well. And that person looked heartbroken. 
"I just don't understand," she whimpered, fearing the volume of her own voice. 
A spark returned to him then, hearing her response. "I can explain," he said, stepping away from her towards a pitch black chaise lining the wall, "Give me a moment, and I will explain as much as I can." 
She was sure she was meant to take his lead, joining him on the velvet cushion, but her feet didn't allow more than a drag. She wanted to understand him, but she could understand him just fine without crawling in his lap. Instead, (Y/N) followed him far enough to watch as he took his seat from where she stood a meter away. 
"(Y/N)—" 
"Tell me," she started, her voice bursting through before she had given much permission, "Are you—... You're not human, are you?" 
Her words hung in the air between them, echoing through the too big, too silent ballroom. She didn't need to hear him to know what his answer was. 
"No. I'm not."
Harry had his eyes fixed on her, watching for every reaction she gave. (Y/N) wished she could have been stoic like the elder women of the village, or less reactionary like her sister, instead she was an open book doling out every reaction on a silver platter for him to consume. While she had been expecting as such, her head would never—could never—comprehend the answer he gave. 
"I am what is called a vampyr," he cautiously continued after a moment.
With her mouth agape, she watched him, waiting for more of an explanation than some unknown word. 
"What does that even mean?" she peeped when he said nothing more. 
This time, Harry avoided her eyes as he searched for the right words. He leant forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees as he dropped his gaze to center on the glossy floor. Only if he peeked through his lashes could he see her. 
"It means," he started, a heavy breath pushing his lungs to expand, "That, I am dead. But, I am able to be among the living." 
The edges of (Y/N)'s vision began to swirl as she tried to comprehend what he was so simply serving to her. 
Dead. 
Harry is dead. But, here he was, living and breathing, blinking with his heart steady in his chest, right in front of her. 
She breathlessly tried to ask for more information, though barely any thought came from her mouth. "Wh-W—Dead?"
Flicking his head up, Harry hesitantly matched her eyes. "My heart no longer beats, but, still, here I am," he offered, tone gentle and forgiving, "I don't know how it's possible, but I've been existing this way for a long time. I don't understand it either, (Y/N)." 
Her lungs felt stunted as she couldn't help her own eyes from dropping to his chest, where any normal human's heart would be pumping blood through full veins. She thought, if she waited long enough ,started hard enough, that she could prove him wrong somehow. What if Harry had it all wrong, that he had been convinced by someone—something—that he wasn't like anyone else? Here she could prove to him (and herself) that his heart was beating and he was alive and everything she had slowly been putting together was nothing more than the effects of too much wine and an overactive imagination. 
Alas, there was no bold evidence that his heart was hammering against his chest as hers was. Instead, he was silently still, skin pale and chilled. 
She fell to the ground then, her dress fanning around her form with her hands limp in her lap. Looking at Harry with pleading eyes, she wanted nothing more than for this to be a cruel joke. 
"Bu—Harry?" 
Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry closed his eyes, unable to continue watching as she crumbled under the weight of the truth. 
"I-I'm sorry, I don't have any answers on why or how," he started, feeling as pained as she, "All I know is that I woke up this way after a night I can't remember, and have been attempting to figure it out since." 
She canted her head, observing him as he sat with his eyes shuttered. "But you... You don't look dead?" 
This seemed to be the wrong question to ask as he dropped his head, leaving (Y/N) from gleaning anything from his expression. "There are things I need to be able to maintain myself or I would wither away like any other person, but..." 
"It's complicated?" (Y/N) finished for him, feeling the lame weight of the explanation on her tongue. 
Harry nodded his head, keeping his gaze down. "It's complicated." 
(Y/N) base level instincts wanted her to run, bolt from the castle and make her way back home in a puddle of tears and seek out the shelter of her father. Harry's half-explanations and full deceptions should be enough of a warning sign to compliment the red flags others around her had seen and pushed her to acknowledge. 
Despite it all, as she sat, watching him wrestle with his speaking his own words as much as she was hearing them, she made no move to leave. Maybe she hadn't completely crashed down just yet, because she swore the longer she sat here, streaks of intrigue and curiosity sparked through her head.
Besides, through the muck and the revelations slowly sweeping over her, a near silent thought in the back of her head reminded her that he promised he'd never hurt her. If he had truly wanted to harm her, he would have done it by now, right?
"What do you mean that it's complicated?" she asked before she had even given permission for her thoughts to float around the room. 
"I have had to do things—things I am not proud of—to be able to stay alive—or whatever I am. But, I am trying to move past them and grow into something more," he told her, his words turning into a plea as he finally matched her gaze, "I promise I am different now." 
That base instinct inside of her triggered a gut feeling (Y/N) couldn't ignore. Flashes of the woman she found in the woods blinked through her memory, her nightmares intermingling with the grotesque sight. 
"The people in the woods," she murmured, unsure of what she wanted out of bringing this up. She wasn't asking, but she hoped Harry had an answer for her, though she feared what that might be. 
Harry looked to her with a clear gaze, his shoulders sloping in defeat. He looked pained as he fought to pick out the right words for her. "That is not me," he told her, though he looked far from finished, "But, it's who I used to be. I have not done... that in a very long time, but Mitchell—m-my footman—he-he's trying to learn. He doesn't know how to contain himself yet, but he will." 
Vividly, (Y/N) could recall the sight of the bloodless corpse, all color leached from the woman's features. The frayed column of her throat, ripped out of the way in favor of the flesh and muscle underneath. The woman had been deliberately stowed away, carefully placed after being mauled and used until she had nothing left to give. The memory warped until Harry was standing over the woman's body, blood cascading down his mouth and soiling his clothing
A shudder wracked down her spine.
She remembered thinking just how impossible it would be for a human to do what she had seen. 
"You've done that to others before?" she whispered, fearing how badly her voice would crack if she attempted anything louder. 
Hanging his head in shame, Harry nodded his head. "It's been almost a hundred years, but yes." 
A hundred years. 
Harry on the outside was a young man, not the kind of person that spoke of decades of his life out in the world. He showed no age, and yet, he didn't hesitate before offering a number. 
She had thought it was wild just how much he seemed to have travelled while being so young. 
(Y/N)'s world turned on its head then. She must have really downed the wine during dinner. Maybe even the scent of the wisteria and the foxglove had worked its way into her brain and was taking more and more of her sanity. 
She had to leave. 
Stumbling to her feet, (Y/N) swallowed around her dry through, her breathing coming in concerning puffs with her corset tight around her torso. 
"I need to go," she told him breathlessly, "I-I—I'm sorry, I need to leave." 
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started out of the ballroom. She needed space, this castle was too small, the walls too tight, the corset digging in too deep. She had made it just to the double doors before she was aware of Harry's presence behind her, his steps silent over the floor. 
"(Y/N), wait," he pleaded, "I can explain everything, I-I promise. I've never had to explain to anyone who didn't already understand, but I'll learn, please give me a chance." 
Her pacing never wavered as she burst out of the ballroom, hustling through the winding halls and gloomy decor until she found herself heading towards the front door. The pounding of her feet over the glossy flooring matched that of the beating in her chest, her ribs sore and lungs aching. 
Just as she placed her hand on the door, aiming to push it open and allow herself to spill into the night, a cold hand on her shoulder stopped her. 
"(Y/N), wai—" 
Twirling around, (Y/N) startled with a gasp ripping through her throat. On instinct, the vision of the corpse in the woods in the back of her mind, she cupped her hand over her neck as if that could stop him from ripping it out. 
Harry's hand dropped from her shoulder immediately, his gaze dropping to where she had protectively clutched her throat. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, a whimper involuntarily dropping from her lips. 
He crumbled at the sight, despair washing over his features. (Y/N) didn't know what to do as he fell to his knees, looking up at her with glittering eyes, more and more shatters of green appearing. His fingers clutched at his waistcoat, skin turning bone white from the strength. 
"(Y/N)," he almost cried, "I—You have to believe me. I would never hurt you, you know that. Please, please don't be scared of me." Glittering tears pooled in his eyes. "I am more devoted to you than I think I even realized, I would sooner sacrifice myself than let anything hurt you. Please, just... I don't want to frighten you, I'm sorry." 
She was rooted in her spot as she heard his pleas over the rushing of blood in her ears. Under her palm, she could feel her pulse thrumming in her neck. 
What kind of predator was he, to crumble and bow before his prey? No vulnerability could be shown during the hunt, even from the most skilled of hunters. And yet, if Harry were the lion here, the one stalking and waiting for the moment to strike, he was doing a poor job of keeping the upper hand. With the way they were positioned—(Y/N) with her back to the door, knob under her other hand, and Harry at his knees before her,—she could easily escape before he had a chance to do anything more than to grasp at her gown before the material inevitably slipped from his hands. 
He'd had plenty of better—easier—opportunities to hurt her. Tonight alone, when he dipped her low, neck on display, as they danced in the ballroom, he could have easily made her into one of the many found in the woods. Instead, he had held her carefully, skimming his nose over the skin in an affectionate touch before pulling her to his chest. Countless times prior—the night in the storm, when she had slept so soundly in that bedroom, the night walking alone through town—he could have stolen her away without a single soul to witness. 
Instead, he had cared for her. He put her somewhere safe to wait out the storm and sleep off her panic. He had ensured she hadn't walked home alone in the dark with a rowdy tavern bubbling with drunk patrons. He had treated her like royalty all night, never once looking down on her should she not know the proper etiquette. Even now, he was pleading with her to please understand him, that he had never wanted to simply scare her. 
For a moment, she wished she could have seen what this looked like to a spectator. She wanted to know if all of her emotions were seen as plainly on her face as she felt them in her chest. The comedown was gradual and mind-clearing, but Harry stayed right where he was, patiently awaiting any kind of response she could give him.
(Y/N) had the upper hand here. 
Lowering her hand from her throat, her shoulders dropped into a declining slope. Unpinching her features while her lungs evened out. 
"I am overwhelmed, I think," she told him, swallowing down the thick lump in the throat, "And, confused. But I believe you." 
Relief came over him at once, his posture slumping as he collected himself. A beat passed before he rose to his feet, exhaustion touching at his unblemished features. 
"Thank you," he breathed, looking at her with a clear gaze and unguarded expression, "I understand. I was confused once too—it's not easy to comprehend." Wetting his lips, he tipped his chin with the downturned eyes of a scolded pup. "Perhaps, I can ready the carriage for you to make it home, and rest for the remainder of the night. And, if you are still open to seeing me again, I will give you whatever answers I have to anything you want to know." 
Too many trains of thought were passing through her head at the moment, keeping (Y/N) from giving him a clear answer. While she was sure right now that she wanted to know everything about what he was and who he was, explore the half-truths she had learned, there was no telling what kind of clarity the morning would bring. 
"Okay," she answered quietly, not wanting to give anything more away until she knew more. She made a move to step around him to which Harry caught on and allowed a wider berth for her to pass. "Let me change, and then I will be ready to leave." 
"You don't have to do that," Harry stopped her, his sullen expression returning with delicate heartbreak, "The gown is yours. You can keep it." 
When she offered him a small smile, she could see the pieces of him mending back together. "I think this may be a bit hard to travel in and hide from my father, that's all," she told him, shooting her palms over the skirt, "I will have to come by to collect it another time." 
It was like watching the sunrise the way a smile bloomed over Harry's features, dazzling and hopeful.
"Another time, then."
—————
From the carriage ride, to trekking back to her room, and finally settling in bed after doing her nightly ritual, (Y/N) had been left alone with her thoughts. 
No one had caught her, that much she knew from the fact her father was still snoring in the other room and the tavern was still bustling with no attention paid in her direction. At least, she didn't have to worry about that. That way, her head could be filled with endless questions. 
No matter how scared she had been in the moment at the castle, (Y/N) knew that she was never in any real danger. She didn't understand Harry and who he was revealing himself to be, and she doubted she ever truly would, but she knew in her heart that he was never going to harm her. The kind of man that would rather sit and speak, drop to his knees with words of devotion, couldn't be that much of a monster, could he? 
Confusion muddled her thoughts. Every time she reassured herself, she heard glimpses of the word Dead wrapped in his voice, detailing out just how his heart was still in his chest. She saw the memory of the dead woman in the woods, and the countless others she had been spared of seeing with her own eyes. While he may not be the culprit of these bodies, he had been once. 
It was an odd thing, the curiosity she felt. 
She wanted to know him. She wanted to be close to the man that she had met and practically courted with these last weeks. She wanted that man and had allowed her heart to stake a claim on him. But, she was confused with the part of him he shared tonight.
Staring at her ceiling, (Y/N) attempted to reconcile everything she knew. 
Those two facets of him could both be true, she thought. He could be the kind of creature that had done things she didn't want to fathom, while also being the kind of man that she had sought out and had embraced her in those small ways. Tonight, she had feared a threat that had been brought about by the unknown and the lack of understanding she had around him, but never once was the real Harry the thing that had frightened her. 
She could be comforted and confused by him at the same time, too. 
A rustle from the herb garden had (Y/N) tentatively peering out her window. 
Amongst the leaves and bundles was the moon-eyed cat. The same one that she had last seen in Harry's arms. 
She was going to speak to him again, she decided. There was more she had to know about him and her heart wasn't ready to shy away from him yet. 
—————
when the flower of hemlock is consumed, it can poison the lungs and cause death through suffocation.
ahhhhhh! the ballroom scene was the first thing that came to mind and inspired me to write this whole piece so that was a lot of fun to come together and I really hope you guys like it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas or whatever you want to share please sent them in!
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augustjustice · 7 months
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Sharing Smokes Outside the Snow Ball
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It's the Winter of 1999, and Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are standing outside the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball, sharing a smoke.
Eddie can't believe he's back here, the whole thing feeling nearly as surreal as that nightmare, wayward Spring Break over ten years ago. He'd barely made it out of that hell hole alive, Steve himself practically having to hold Eddie together as they made their way from Forest Hill to Hawkins Memorial Hospital.
Spring had turned into summer, sweltering and oppressive as Eddie slowly, painfully healed.
There had been bright spots, though. Watching Lucas and Erica squabble during the one-shot campaign he had cooked up just for the party that June. Evenings out beside the Harrington's temperature controlled pool, beer bottle sweating in his hand as he traded a joint back and forth between Argyle and Jonathan, the sound of Robin's cackle loud and bright as she managed to hipcheck Steve into the pool. Steve's own blinding smile--a longtime feature of Eddie's secret high school fantasies--being turned on him the first time he made it from the front doors of the physical therapy clinic to the passenger side of his BMW, without needing any help at all.
But then summer had ended, and Eddie, finally back together again like a character out of a children's nursery rhyme, had packed up his van and headed straight to Chicago, not looking back.
Sure, there'd been post cards sent, phone calls to Dustin and the other Hellfire brats, promises to see everyone soon. Promises that Eddie couldn't keep, even if he wanted to.
Not when he didn't dare set foot in Hawkins, not ever again.
Then, over a decade into his second life as a struggling guitarist by night, record shop employee by day, his cousin Brooke had landed on his doorstep, looking too tired and too young all at once, a bruise around her eye. Behind her, her eleven year old son was studying the apartment hall's tiling.
"I left him." Eddie didn't need an explanation for that one. Her good-for-nothing husband, Nash. "Jake won't be any trouble, he just...needs a place to stay, while I get back on my feet. Somewhere his daddy can't find him. Just for a little while."
Eddie thought of his Mama. And then he called Wayne.
"Shit, Uncle Wayne, I--don't know what to do."
"Come on home now, boy," Wayne said, easy as anything, like Eddie had left only yesterday. "Come on back home."
So Eddie had.
That had been six months ago. And now he was standing in the aforementioned middle school parking lot with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington, while their kids--and wasn't that just a fucking head trip and a half--danced the night away.
"I keep half expecting Click to round the corner screaming my name," Eddie admits as he gives Steve a light. "Remember junior year, I sold to you in the alley behind the gym? Old bat nearly got me that time."
"Remember? I literally had to shove that joint down the front of my shorts, dude," Steve admits, which draws a snort out of Eddie to match his own chuckle. "Most of the guys on the basketball team couldn't move half as fast as you did that day. You practically vanished into the woods before she even made it to the stadium. Totally shoulda gone out for the track team, Eds."
Eddie clutches his chest, as though he's been shot. "Don't speak such blasphemy to me, Harrington."
"Yeah, well, you can quit worrying. Pretty sure she finally retired," Steve tells him, taking a long drag before he's passing the cigarette back to Eddie, even that brief touch enough to send sparks of electricity up Eddie's arm. Then he shoots Eddie that charming, infamous Harrington smile, boyish and cocky, the one that says he's used to getting exactly what he wants. "Even if she's not, I'm head of the PTA. If Higgins tries anything, I'll just threaten not to bring cupcakes to the next bake sale."
"Harrington, my hero," Eddie fakes a swoon, collapsing for a brief second against Steve's shoulder, an excuse to get close.
The theatrics get no rise out of Steve beyond an amused smirk. Even after all these years, he's still used to Eddie's antics, it seems.
"You know, it was total déjà vu," he nods to the middle school gymnasium, all decked out in blue and white, "dropping Sam off here."
Though he's actually gotten to know the Harrington offspring in person since he's been back, Eddie had received the rundown from Dustin and the others on Steve's journey to dadhood in their scattered calls over the years.
The December after Eddie had left, Steve had met a girl, taken her out on a few dates, and accidentally gotten her pregnant.
With Samantha, a name Dustin had proudly persuaded Steve into as the little girl's godfather. Every bit as adorable, now that Eddie had seen her, as the gushing picture the party had painted for him, all big blue eyes and wavy chestnut hair just like her father's.
Steve had gotten down on one knee long before she was born, determined to tie the knot and do right by her mother nearly as soon as he'd heard the news.
The pair had been divorced not even two years later.
"I don't think they were ever really in love," Dustin had informed Eddie one sunny afternoon impromptu of nothing, as always blunt in his honesty. "But you know what Steve is like. He's a hopeless romantic."
Eddie didn't, not exactly. But he's gotten enough glimpses, both back in '86 and much more recently, that he's starting to put the picture together.
Steve draws Eddie out of that particular reverie with another bright laugh. And then he's recounting the memory of Dustin's hair, done up in the infamous Harrington 'do, as Steve pulled up in front of the '84 Snow Ball playing chaperone in his trusty Beemer, long since traded in for the much more affordable sedan he's driving now.
"I demand photographic evidence, Harrington," Eddie insists, smile crooked, that distracting dimple appearing in his right cheek, "you can't conjure up an image like that and then not fork over the goods."
"Hey, man, talk to Dustin. Mrs. Henderson took like...a million pictures that night," Steve laughs.
But he's already mentally going through the album tucked away on a bookcase back at home, positive he's got his own photo to show for it. It'll make for a nice excuse to invite Eddie over for dinner one night.
The subject turns then to their own checkered experiences with school dances.
"Class of '85, baby! That's when they made your 'King Steve' title official," Eddie crows, teasing as he taps Steve once on the nose.
Steve goes a bit cross-eyed, following the movement of his finger.
"Yeah, well, talk about a total let-down of a night. I didn't even bring a date," Steve admits, tone blasé. The truth is, his entire senior year had been something of a disappointed trudge towards graduation, a walk he had taken mostly alone. There had been bright spots--the little band of miscreants he'd fallen into babysitting, for one--but they had all been far outside the walls of Hawkins High. "I'm guessing you weren't around for that? Not really your scene, especially with the Munson Doctrine's strict rules about 'forced conforming.'"
He puts Eddie's words in deliberate air quotes, his turn to give him a teasing smile.
"You're wrong about that one, big boy. I saw them, adorning your glorious locks with the crown." That mischievous smile is back. "We're not that old, dude, don't tell me you already forgot the whole 'prom streaking' incident?"
Eddie shoots him a loaded, deliberate look.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute." Shaking his head with a laugh, Steve waves his arms in front of him, like he's calling a time out. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. That was you?"
"The one and only. What can I say, Jeff and Gareth dared me. Besides, by that point," Eddie shrugs casually, "I already knew I didn't have a shot at graduating anyway, so. Thought I'd close out the year with a bang."
"You've seriously never considered doing anything halfway in your life, have you, Munson?" Steve asks, giving Eddie's shoulder an almost exasperated nudge, smile fond in spite of himself.
"Absolutely not, Stevie boy. Life's too short. Where's the fun in playing it safe?"
Eddie swings into Steve's space, then, dark eyes sparkling. Goading and flirtatious. Just like when they were teenagers, thrown together in the worst of circumstances but making the best of it, before time and pain and trauma put all that distance between them.
And if Steve's eyes drop down to Eddie's lips as they share air, slow enough it can't be anything but deliberate, and their fingers brush just a tad too intimately the next time they trade the cigarette back and forth...well. They've got a lot of lost time--and shared smokes in school parking lots--to make up for.
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vioartemis · 11 months
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Jealous
(Ghostface! Sam Carpenter x fem! reader)
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Summary: Sam gets jealous and killed a girl that flirted with you. You catch her, and things turn heated very quickly Warnings: (+18), smut, strap-on sex, top! Sam, blood, Sam kills someone a/n: let's say that Richie wasn't Sam's boyfriend during the 2022 massacre (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)
Sam and you had been dating for over two years now, and she was a perfect girlfriend. Sweet, caring, maybe a little overprotective sometimes but you could understand why.
But there was that side of her that you never saw. She was jealous, and possessive. Not just a little like everybody. No. It was far more intense than that.
The simple thought of someone else touching you - or wanting to - made her see red. She had to hold back every time someone looked at you a little too long. Fortunately, it always worked.
Until today.
You had been invited to a party by one of your classmates. Sam didn't trust the girl, she saw how she looked at you. And she was right.
As soon as your girlfriend left to go to the bathroom, Bella came to you.
"Hey beautiful, how's the party?" she asked, putting her hand on your arm
"It's cool, thanks for inviting me"
"Anytime" she smiled "I'd invite you everyday if I could" she added, trailing her fingers up your arm "Why don't we go upstairs, huh? I have some good stuff in my room"
"I'm gonna have to pass. I have a girlfriend"
"She doesn't need to know. C'mon, it'll be quick, she will not even notice-"
"She told you she had a girlfriend. Now back the fuck off." Sam intervened, spawning right behind you, glaring daggers at the other girl
The girl must have been scared because she complied without complaining and almost ran away.
Sam wrapped a possessive arm around your waist, holding you close.
"This bitch" she mumbled
"Thank you for helping me out" you said, turning around to face her and wrap your arms around her "You're kinda hot when you're jealous y'know?" you kissed her tenderly "can we go home? I don't really want to stay anymore..."
"Of course baby, we're going home"
Maybe two hours after you got back home, Sam told you she was going to her therapy session and went out. You were alone in the appartement, Tara being with her friends. You looked up for your bag, the one you brought to Bella's party, in which you had put your phone, but couldn't find it.
"Shit..." you whispered as you remembered you left it at her house
You had no other choice than go back there and get it. You weren't going to leave your phone there.
You put your shoes on, and quickly went back to the girl's house.
When you arrived, the party was over, and everything was silent. You entered quietly, not sure you were allowed to do that.
You made your way to the living room, looking for your bag, when a noise coming from the kitchen draw your attention. Without even thinking about it, you started walking towards the noise.
When you entered the room, you saw Bella lying on the floor in a puddle of blood, someone in a black robe on top of her. You first thought it was Ghostface, but the person wasn't wearing a mask. You could see their long, dark hair.
"Sam...?"
Hearing her name, the girl turned around, eyes wide. You weren't supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to see that.
"Why did you do that...?"
She got up and walked to you, dropping the bloody knife on the floor, trying to find the good words. She couldn't find any excuse, her jealousy taking control.
"She was trying to fuck you. I'm not letting anyone touch what's mine."
You never thought she could kill someone. You should be scared of her. But you were not. You were aroused.
The look in her eyes, dark, almost animalistic, the way her muscles tensed when she stabbed the girl, the very muscles that drove you crazy since day one, the blood on her face... The fact that she killed for you...
You couldn't help the blush that appeared on your face. And she saw it. A smirk appeared on her face.
She took your chin between her thumb and index and tilted your head up so she could kiss you. She wasted no time and slipped her tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss.
Her hands were on your hips, before sliding down to your thighs, signaling you that she wanted to lift you up. You helped her - even tho it was useless, jumping slightly and wrapping your legs around her waist.
Without breaking the kiss, she walked to the couch and knelt on it so she could make you lay on your back and be on top of you.
She then pulled away, only to dip down to your neck where she left hickeys and love bites in the most visible places for people to know you were hers, and hers only.
When she was satisfied with the marks she left on you, she sat up and looked at you for a second, biting her bottom lip.
She took off her black robe, leaving her in her grey tank top and jeans, jeans that were took off quickly after, revealing the black strap she was wearing.
You didn't know seeing her wearing a strap and a tank top could be that exciting. You felt yourself get wetter by the second, cheeks burning, heart racing in anticipation.
Sam took her belt from her jeans and pinned your hands over your head, tying them up with the leather band.
"If you move them I'll stop." she said, still mad from earlier.
You nodded.
She kissed your lips one more time before unbuttoning your pants, slid them down your legs and threw them somewhere in the room before taking off the last piece of clothing you had at a painfully slow pace.
"You're so wet, I don't even need lube." she smirked, looking at your dripping cunt "Who made you this wet, huh?"
"Y-you"
"Damn right I did."
Without any warning, she slid her silicone cock inside you in one swift motion, making you moan loudly.
"God, you're so tight..." she groaned
She waited a little, letting you time to ajust, before she started moving in deep, rough thrusts.
You knew it was bad, she just killed someone after all. But it felt so good.
Her smirk got wider at the moans leaving your mouth, knowing she was she only one who got to hear them.
"You like it when I fuck you like that, huh? When I fuck your pretty little pussy with my cock? Tell me, who do you belong to?"
Her movements slowed down, making you whine, frustrated tears in your eyes.
"Y-you. I belong to you Sam...! P-please 'm close..."
"That's right, you're mine. Mine to kiss, mine to love, mine to fuck." she picked up her pace again, hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you "I'm the only one who get to fuck your tight pussy. I'll kill everyone who would want to do it too."
You clenched around the faux cock at her words, your orgasm building.
"You're so pretty under me, your pretty pussy swallowing my cock like that... God, I wish I could fill you up with my cum..."
"F-fuck Sam... I- I'm gonna-"
"I know, cum for me" she cut you off, moving her thumb to rub tight circles on your clit
You moaned her name as your orgasm washed over you, back arching, legs shaking, eyes rolling back. Sam fucked you through it, only stopping her thrusts when she saw tears in your eyes from the overstimulation.
She looked at you tenderly and pulled out, eliciting a last moan from you, before kissing you softly.
"You did amazing baby. Such a good girl for me, hm?" she hummed against your lips
She stood up and put her pants back on, taking her black robe from off the floor, and started walking in the other room.
"Where are you going?" you asked, propping yourself on your elbows
"Getting tissues and bleach"
"For what?"
"Cleaning the mess you made on the couch" she replied with a smirk before disappearing in the kitchen "I wouldn't want the police to find you DNA on a crime scene"
You looked down at the couch below you and couldn't help but blush at the sight of your dripping pussy soaking the piece of furniture. You got up, looking for your underwear and pants before putting them back on.
Sam came back with bleach and handed you a sponge.
"What do I have to do this?"
"It's your mess baby, you clean it"
"But it's your fault if I made a mess"
"The faster it disappear, the faster we can go home and continue that properly"
She had a proud smirk, knowing you couldn't say no.
"... Okay give me the bleach"
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cerise-on-top · 3 months
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Taking Care of a Drunk Valeria and Laswell
Somehow, Tumblr botched this upon me having posted it, so I'm posting it again. I'm genuinely sorry about this, I really don't know why it happened!
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Valeria: Valeria isn’t exactly a lightweight, but she certainly can’t outdrink everyone either, meaning it’s not too hard to find her drunk when she’s out with you. While she can normally drink quite a bit, if it’s good and expensive wine she’s drinking, she’s a goner fairly quickly. Despite normally already having quite the temperament, she gets fairly aggressive when drunk, picking fights with just about anyone who looks at her the wrong way. Most people don’t expect someone so pretty and cute to get this mad when drunk, much less expecting them to be able to suplex them into the ground as well. It becomes evident quickly enough that she’s had enough, with someone, pretty much always you, needing to drag her away from the bar and the booze lest she actually just kills someone. It wouldn’t be her first time, but you were hoping last time won’t be repeated like that. And thus, you put your hand on her shoulder, telling her that it’s finally time to go home.
“Don’t fucking touch me, pendejo, I’m married!”
“I know, I am your wife!”
Upon hearing that, she’d be quiet for a moment, and that’s about the best chance you have to drag her away. It’s sweet that she’s that loyal to you, especially when she’s as drunk as she is, but she really needed to stop. Putting her in the car, you drove as you had had much less alcohol than she did, but Valeria, having “regained” her composure, wouldn’t shut up, questioning you about things only her wife would know. Naturally, you knew the answers to all of her questions. Why wouldn’t you know about her love for the stuffie you gave her all those years ago? Again, she’s stunned a bit, but won’t shut up either, starting to flirt with you instead. If you can speak Spanish, congratulations, you’ll hear the worst pickup lines in existence that aren’t standard. Most of them won’t even make sense since she comes up with them herself and she isn’t exactly the most creative person. If you don’t speak Spanish and tell her such, she’ll try to speak English with you, but fails horribly and either speaks Spanglish, or simply reverts back to her native tongue. Her accent, too, becomes very thick when she’s drunk.
Once you’re out of the car and back home she’ll be more inclined to touch you. Putting her arms over your shoulders, trapping you between her and the wall while stumbling over both her feet and her words, looking for the worst excuses to simply touch your hand. If you wear your ring, then you can be certain she’ll be looking for and at it. Still can’t believe she’s your wife.
If you wanna take care of her, now’s your chance. You can put her head in your lap without her protesting, but she will have to leave fairly often for the bathroom, so the joy isn’t very long lived. But she will always come back to you and demand you run your fingers through her hair. Actually thinks she’s 0.5% weaker than she actually is while drunk, giving her enough of an opportunity to want to be spoiled rotten by you. Give her the princess treatment and she’ll return it tenfold. And yes, she will remember, she’s never forgotten anything just because she was drunk at the time. Draw her a bath and help with washing her. If you gently rub in the shampoo she’ll go very quiet, simply wanting to enjoy your presence. While she does want to tease you still, it’s not nearly as mean and venomous as it usually is. Her words are slurred, so there’s a chance you can’t understand everything anyway. I know they say “in vino veritas”, but I think she also gets a bit more cuddly. Not particularly emotional still, just slightly more mad than she usually is, but definitely more cuddly. Yes, she hates PDA, yes, she wants to hold you close so you won’t run away from her anymore.
While she will lay down for a few hours, she won’t be able to sleep all that well after drinking a lot of alcohol, so if you’re down for an all nighter, she’ll appreciate it once she’s sobered up enough after those few hours. Doesn’t need to be taken care of in the sense that you need to hold her hair back while she throws up, she rarely ever does after an intense night, but if you make her some toast she’ll definitely show her appreciation. Get her some aspirin while you’re at it too. Valeria might not be the most traditionally affectionate person normally, but she’d fight tooth and nail for you if you ever got drunk like she did.
Laswell: Laswell isn’t a lightweight in the slightest, she can hold her liquor quite well due to larger alcohol consumption when she was a lot younger. While she still wouldn’t be able to outdrink someone like Nikolai, it takes quite a bit to get her drunk. She’s a classy woman as well, but she does like stronger things such as tequila or some cocktails. Not one for too much vodka, but not above drinking the good and expensive kind upon being offered. As mentioned, she can take quite a lot, but she only really drinks the strong stuff, so it doesn’t take too long for her to properly get drunk either if she’s had a few too many drinks. Most of the time you couldn’t even tell she was drunk in the first place since she acts just about the same. Aside from her breath, it’s hard for just about anyone to tell she’s drunk, so if she ever wears a mask, no one would know she even drank anything in the first place. Yes, her judgment is just a bit clouded, but she can still make some good decisions. However, she loosens up a bit more while drunk. It’s not too often she tells jokes while sober, but you’ll hear one pretty much every other hour when she’s not. Laughs at them a bit too, she thinks she’s a comedic genius. Her jokes are just what you’d expect from someone of her age. They don’t always make sense, but she likes them. A guy walks around the corner and the bus is gone. The bus drives around the corner and the guy is gone. Both round the corner and the corner is gone. It’s a real knee slapper to her and she’ll laugh every time. Don’t ask me what it means, though, I couldn’t tell you.
While usually not a very touchy person either, she’ll keep her hands on you just the tiniest bit more. A hand on your thigh, a hand on your shoulder, a hand on your arm. She’s not touch starved, but getting to feel you, getting the reassurance that you’re there, it’s a good feeling to her. Unlike Valeria, Laswell is usually the first one to suggest you leave when she’s had a few drinks, but when she’s with Price and Nikolai and having a very good time, she might forget about her drunken state and needs to be reminded of how she’s going to get home. And thus you tug at her arm.
“I am a happily married woman, stop trying to get my attention.”
“Kate, my love, I’m your wife, please let’s just go home.”
It’s the first time something like this has ever happened, but you couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit. She’s so cute when she’s drunk. It takes a bit more convincing to get to her, but eventually she’ll remember you and agree to go home with you, begrudgingly. Saying her goodbyes to Nikolai and Price, she’ll trot alongside you, her hand in yours. I know, she’s not a fan of PDA either, but there’s nothing wrong with holding hands while it’s pitch black outside. Most of your time driving back home is spent just chatting over this and that. How nice it was to see her old friends again, how she hoped you and them would get along as well, that sort of stuff. As well as thanking you for taking one for the team and driving home.
Once home, the first thing she always does is ask you for a glass of water. She’s thirsty, alcohol doesn’t hydrate as much as it dehydrates. But other than that she’s really just content playing UNO or Sorry! with you. Despite her being very drunk, she can keep her cool, she’s just very low maintenance in that regard. In fact, you could leave her as she is and she’ll be just fine. However, that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t want your company. When it’s very late and you’re both still up, Kate opens up a lot more about herself than she usually does, regardless of whether you’re having an impromptu therapy session among yourselves or you're wiping the dishes. Those are things she genuinely doesn’t tell anyone aside from the people closest to her, the things that, from time to time, do weigh on her. She knows she can’t particularly tell you everything she does at work, but nothing prevents her from telling you personal anecdotes she thought she’d take with her to her grave. You don’t need to always respond to her, simply listening is more than enough. Usually, she remembers your late night deep talks, but sometimes she does forget about a topic or two you talked about. But she’ll always remember you giving her the time of your day to listen to her. And for that she’s truly grateful.
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mika-no-sekai-blog · 8 days
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Word count: 1800+
Warnings: confusion, jealousy (just in case), but otherwise nothing
Part XIII | Part XV
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You opened your eyes. The memories of your childhood that Rhysand revived, swirled in your mind. You were on the verge of tears. Parents. Their faces shone bright in your mind. Beautiful, smiling. How could you forget them? And your older brother, ever so loving, caring and protective. His two best friends. Morrigan. Your friends in camps. And so many others. How could you forget them all?
Old feelings mingled with your current ones. It was a bit overwhelming and confusing. You would definitely need time to process the chaos in your head and heart. You should have stopped him sooner, but once you saw fragments of your past, you wanted more.
Big, warm hand squeezed your right one, drawing small circles with a thumb. You looked in that direction. Azriel was kneeling next to you, his eyes scanning your face with worry. You knew him. You knew him for so long. The comfort and peace you felt with him before, doubled. He was always your support, understanding your feelings more than anyone else.
He was worried about you, so you sent him a small smile, assuring him you are okay. Tension in his face melted away, his eyes watered. Even without words he understood. As always.
You turned to your left where you felt another hand holding yours, but the squeeze was much weaker. Rhysand was half sitting, half lying, his side pressed into backrest of sofa, eyes closed. He was pale. If you didn't see his chest heaved with shallow breaths, you would think the worst.
"Rhys?" Your voice was shaking.
Corners of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. "It's the first time you called me Rhys since you came."
"Oh, you jerk." You playfully hit his shoulder and then hugged him. He returned the hug without hesitation. "I'm so sorry," you mumbled into his shoulder. "You should have said something."
"There's nothing to apologize for. I am sorry for all you had to go through. Before and especially since you came here. I know it wasn't easy for you."
You didn't say anything to that mainly because your feelings were all out of place.
"Are you okay?"
"Mm, just bit tired. It was harder than I thought."
"Why didn't you say something? We could-"
"It's okay," he stopped you. "I just need to rest. That's all. And you ought to do so too. I bet you have a lot to think about." He rubbed your back.
You were about to offer him helping to get to his room, but he stopped you before you could open your mouth with shake of his head. "Rest. We will talk about everything later."
Gnawing your lower lip you nodded and stood up. Azriel also got up, following you out of the office, silent like a shadow. Once doors closed behind you, you turned to him.
"I'm fine, Az. Really."
"I'll just walk you to your room."
"I can do that," you smiled. "But I'd love to ask you to take care of him. I think he's more exhausted than he admits." Your gaze travelled back to the office doors.
"Okay," he nodded, looking at you curiously. "Now you really remember." Small amused smile played on his lips, but his eyes were full of sadness and something you couldn't place.
You stepped closer, surprising Azriel with an innocent kiss on his cheek. His body went rigid, eyes widened. This was a game you two used to play, when you were younger, always catching him by surprise. Knowing you since you were born, he usually let his guard down around you, which allowed you to get into his personal space easily. You also learnt a few tricks from him.
"I do," you hummed. His fingers touched the place you kissed and he blushed fiercely. Chuckling you turned around and walked away, leaving him gaping at your back.
You'd turned the corner walking to the main hall towards the staircase.
"I don't understand what he sees in you," a sweet voice spoke from your right. There in the doors to the kitchen stood one of Feyre's sisters, Elain, if you remembered correctly.
"Excuse me?" you raised a brow at her, surprised that she spoke to you.
"Since you came everything is only about you," she said, her brows furrowed. "He also has eyes only for you. Even now, why did he have to be by your side?"
"I have no idea what are you talking about. Who's the he supposed to be anyway?" You'd never talked with her, actually hadn't met her properly until now. But you didn't like the way she looked at you.
Elain looked at you with utter disgust and then just simply pivoted, showing you her back and walked away. Stunned you blinked rapidly. You looked around hoping somebody else witnessed this and could explain you her behaviour. Unfortunately you were alone.
"…bitch…" You heard her low voice as she was muttering something in the kitchen.
Frustrated you returned to your room, decided to forget about that weird incident in the hall and rather concentrate on processing all new feelings.
You took a seat in one of the armchairs you became so fond of and gazing out to the garden you slowly roamed through new memories. It felt like finding pieces of puzzle you didn't realise that were missing. The emptiness you had always felt diminished.
It was hard to say how you felt, what you felt toward people who in few hours changed from strangers to well known faces, family. However you knew for sure that the feelings from before living in Spring Court, weren't so intensive anymore. They were still strong, but strangely subdued at the same time. It was confusing and you could only hope that with time it would clear out.
You didn't know when, but your thoughts wandered back to the cottage. And to him. What was he doing now? Did he already forget about you? Suddenly you felt blue. You'd like to talk with him now. It would certainly help you to sort out the things. You reached for the pendant he gave you, hidden under the clothes. It gave you a feeling of the kind of comfort you felt only with him.
Behind shut eyelids you found yourself back in the forest in front of your cottage, Tamlin stood on the threshold, his back to you. As if feeling your presence, he turned around and when his eyes found yours he smiled happily. Tamlin's emerald eyes and golden hair shone in the sunlight filtering through the treetops. It was so peaceful moment. The moment that was interrupted by a knock on the door.
You exhaled shakily, your heart beating too fast. What was that? It was so real that your chest hurt. You rubbed a non-existent wound and when another soft knock sounded, you called out to whoever it was, to enter. Golden brown head peeked in from behind the door. It was Feyre.
"Can I come in? I brought you something to eat."
You nodded, grateful for her care.
"You missed the lunch, so I thought you might be hungry," she said placing tray on a small table. She looked somehow nervous, eyeing the other armchair. You hadn't talked much with your sister-in-law yet, but she seemed to be a kind person. You asked her to sit down with you. The smile she conjured, was dazzling.
"I just wanted to let you know that Rhys is okay or better say, he will be. Azriel helped him to get to the bed, he ate and now he's napping."
"I'm relieved to hear that," you said and to your own surprise, really meant it. Rhysand was your brother, your blood. He mattered. Words that held no meaning yesterday, were so important now. You pushed those thoughts back before you began spiralling and rather focused on Feyre.
"I'm happy you are here," she whispered. "He needed you. Even though he has all of us, he needed you. He might not admit it openly, but since the tragedy that happened to your mother and you, he wished only for one thing: to have both of you back by his side. He was so lonely."
A lump rose in your throat. You were at a loss for words.
Feyre was nervously playing with her fingers. "I understand how he feels and what this means to him, but.. I noticed that you were.. well, you still are unhappy here. It reminds me of how I felt back at Spring.. I tried to convince him to let you go back. Don't take me wrong. I like you and I'd love you to be here, but if this isn't the place you want to be.."
"But he rejected," you noted, swallowing bitterness in your mouth. Feyre nodded.
"Please, don't be angry with him for that. He believes this is the only way how to protect you."
"Are you angry with Tamlin for doing the same?" You eyed her curiously.
She looked into the garden, her gaze wandered unfocused. "At that time I was angry, very angry. Now I kind of understand. It was his way of dealing with his trauma. He was so kind to me before and even to my family. What happened under the mountain broke us all. And what helped one, hurt someone else. Now seeing into Rhys' heart I do understand how Tamlin felt. I hope he will find his happiness, too." Even though Feyre just whispered the last sentence, she meant it.
Now it was your turn to answer, but you couldn't do so right away. Searching how you actually felt about that, your fingers once again found the pendant, playing with it. "I'm not angry," you said after a while. "Now when I have part of my memories back, I think I understand, too."
"But you still want to return," Feyre finished for you. "To him." A gentle smile spread across her face as she watched your fingers. You nodded.
"Do you like him?"
Your eyes widened. For some reason you were embarrassed. Like Tamlin? Yes, you liked him, but Feyre was probably referring to different kind of 'like'. "I- I like his company," you stuttered.
She giggled. "You can be honest with me. It'll remain just between us. I won't tell anyone."
You pulled your knees up to your chest, distressed. Feyre watched you curiously, head tilted to the side, a knowing grin on her face. "He's a good male and very kind. Lucien said that your presence helped him recover."
"The redhead?" you sat up straight. She nodded. So he wasn't lying when he said they were friends.
Feyre pressed her lips together, light amusement was replaced by seriousness. "Although I'm afraid of what happened with him after your abrupt departure."
After that Feyre left, muttering something about food getting cold and necessary rest, leaving you even more confused and on top of it worried.
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Taglist:
@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt
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pyromegalomaniac · 1 year
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You can not tell me Wally won’t be a real bro for his friends if he found out reader has a crush on a certain someone.
Like Wally catch reader staring at someone for a long time with a soft smile on their face and Wally like “you like them don’t you”
And right there Wally turning into reader’s and his friend’s wing man
“Hey that friend there , they love home baked goods”
“Oh yeah random fact reader loves this color “
Wally just trying to play matchmaker
Ooooh, anon! This idea!! So very!! I like wingman Wally very much... I hadn't even thought of this!! Just one of the perks of doing these requests, you get so many fan interpretations and headcanons and whatnot... here's your headcanons anon!! Enjoy!!
(♡˙︶˙♡)
Welcome Home x Reader + Wingman/Matchmaker Wally Headcanons🏠☀️🛼🦴🍪🐛📨🦋🍎
Sally☀️
Wally suggesting you be cast as the lead in her plays
Trying to subconsciously convince her to do a romantic play
Setting you up on a stargazing date
Suggesting you write poetry for her
"Hey Sally I think y/n would love to hear you recite what you've been working on"
One day while you three were all outside a sudden burst of rain came down and Wally kinda ran off (he hates getting wet) but he noticed you and Sally still having fun while he was cowering under a tree or something
Julie🛼
Playing games together
Drawing with sidewalk chalk
Wally inviting you both over for a sleepover and rushing off to go do things like make popcorn to leave you alone
Probably brushing each others' hair at said sleepover
"I bet y/n can't beat you in this game"
Barnaby🦴
"Y/n likes x hotdog toppings, don't you, y/n?"
"Y/n's favorite kind of joke is x type. You should tell them some of those!"
Lounging around together
Falling asleep in a nice warm pile
Waking up and wondering where Wally went
Oh well... sleeping with Barnaby is cozy and now you have him all to yourself
Poppy🍪
Baking together
Wally telling her how brave you are
"Y/n's favorite type of baked good is x, why don't we make them some?"
Making cookies in cute shapes
Poppy getting anxious about something and Wally suggesting she ask you for advice
Howdy🐛
Hanging out with Wally and he suddenly remembers he's out of something, so he asks to visit the bugdega
Wally asking you to pick something up for him at the bugdega
Howdy mentioning it getting tough to work all day by himself so Wally suggests he ask you for help next time you come in
Eddie📨
Wally sending you mail so Eddie has an excuse to go to your house
Eddie eventually recognizing your handwriting and stamps
"Why don't you write a letter to Eddie"
"Oh, you said you've been to x place, haven't you? Y/n has been there too"
Doing crafts together and Wally purposefully holding back his art skills so Eddie will like yours
Frank🦋
Wally suggesting the same books to you both
"Y/n's favorite bug is x"
Lowkey trying to be annoying so he'll think you're better to hang out with (this may or may not work)
"Y/n had a question about this... why don't you meet them to discuss it?"
Looking at the buggies together (Wally would probably disappear like the Barnaby hcs)
Wally🍎
He'd be the last one to notice you having a crush on him
Thinking you need someone nice to be with and trying out each possibility in his head
Really wondering why no one seems to be a good match (everyone else can see the obvious crush you have)
Eventually you'd tell him or he'd figure it out and be like
"...Oohhhhhhhhh. I like you too y/n!"
Those are the headcanons I came up with! Hope you like them anon, thanks for requesting them!! They were fun to do!! I look forward to doing more in the future!! Much love!!
ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ
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bogunicorn · 9 months
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Inquisition companion coffee orders and how they'd be at a coffee shop, based on the less than a year I spent working at fake starbucks many years ago. In a different order than my last post, just for the hell of it. Some of these are based on real customers that I still remember. I wrote this at 5am when I was high and unable to sleep so keep that in mind if you think I'm wrong. I'm not wrong but you should keep it in mind. H'kay let's go
Josephine: large americano, extra shots, cream and sugar and sometimes a shot of a seasonal flavor if it's a special day. She comes in twice a day, she tips, and the baristas are all trying to figure out how she hasn't had a heart attack yet from having that much caffeine every day. Staff knows her name and likes her.
Dorian: Iced white chocolate mocha. It's the only thing he gets. He will not drink it hot. He will not try a different flavor. He shows up in the morning and orders two, one with ice and one without, and be puts the one without ice in the fridge to drink later. Staff knows him on sight, but they make him state his order every day as if they don't because he doesn't tip.
Varric: regular brewed coffee, but he likes to hang out at the cafe, work on his books, meet with people, etc. He's really nice, he over tips, and sometimes the staff "forgets" to charge him for a refill. He also orders whatever food they're running out of because he figures that means it's popular and therefore good.
Solas: Decaf brewed coffee, and then he puts a disgusting amount of sugar and cream into it. He actually hates coffee and refuses to drink caffeine, but he doesn't come for the drinks, he comes to people watch and do life drawings. He needs the coffee so he has a purchase that can reasonably last him hours before he's expected to spend more money, and hot coffee won't leave condensation on the table and get his paper wet. Staff knows him and their advice to each other is not to ask him questions because he will answer you, at length, in great detail, if it's something he knows about. But he occasionally just puts a couple 20s in the tip jar, so they've decided he's cool but kind of a weird nerd.
Blackwall: Seems like he'd be a "just a NORMAL COFFEE" kind of guy, but he's actually one of the staff's favorite customers. He's some kind of blue collar worker who comes in on the way to work and on the way home, and he gets the same thing every day: regular hot latte in the morning, decaf hot latte at night. He's always there at rush times, but he's polite and he tips even when service is crowded and messy. The baristas start making his coffee when we walks in the door if they notice him, so he rarely has to wait, but he seems flattered and grateful every time.
Sera: Her order is different every time she comes in and it's always something all fucked up and weird. Half the time she just shows them a screenshot on her phone of some complicated meme recipe from TikTok, or she wants whatever technicolor monstrosity frappuccino that's on special. The staff dreads her order, but she also has a habit of getting belligerent with customers who give the staff a hard time, so they're pretty sure Sera is like a part time security guard who demands meme drinks in payment. They're allowed to complain about her if they want, but they'll malicious compliance the fuck out or anyone else who does.
Iron Bull: He doesn't have a single go-to order, but he's nice and likes to ask the staff for recommendations if it's not too busy and lets them test new recipes on him. He always tries the seasonal flavors at least once. Sometimes he comes in with a group of friends who look like trouble on first glance, but Bull pays for them all at once, doesn't let them order blended drinks, and always makes sure they clean up after themselves, so it's okay.
Cullen: Just a NORMAL COFFEE. He's totally overwhelmed by the amount of choices, but this is the closest place to his office and getting out to buy coffee is his excuse to take a break and stretch his legs. The staff knows him and actually responds to "just a normal coffew" because it's too much trouble to interrogate him about which roast or what size cup, because last time he said, "I don't know, something dark? Whatever has the most caffeine in just a regular size to go cup." He's been drinking a medium blonde roast for years and still doesn't know what blonde roast is, save that he thinks he doesn't like it.
Leliana: Two shots of espresso over ice. Leliana had shit to do and she needs that caffeine in her body as fast as possible. The ice is there to keep her from burning her mouth off. She drinks it like it's whiskey and throws out her cup without even breaking stride.
Cole: Year round pumpkin spiced latte. If they're out of the syrup, he gets the cheapest thing on the menu, no add ins, and then doesn't drink it. He rarely comes in on his own; Cole is usually there with a friend and is aware that it's rude to be there without buying, but the pumpkin spice is the only thing he actually likes. He's polite but he creeps out the other customers with his thousand yard stare.
Cassandra: London Fog, but she never remembers what it's called. She drinks it because she wasn't sure and someone recommended it, but the name just will not stick in her head. She orders it as "hot Earl Grey tea with milk", she listens every time they say "okay, so a London Fog", but by the next time she's in she's forgotten. It's not really a big deal, though, she seems pretty overworked. At this point the staff would be sad if she did remember, honestly.
Vivienne: "The Usual". Literally only one barista knows her order, because it's some customized thing that that specific barista made for her once ages ago. Viv knows what's it in but she will not tell you because she doesn't trust anyone but that one barista to make it. If her regular person isn't around, she just gets a hot latte with sugar free vanilla. That one barista also won't tell you what's in it, but that's because Vivienne tips them directly instead of in the jar and they don't want to ruin a good thing.
**also if you like this and think "i'm gonna give this fine person a follow because they're so funny about dragon age", i made a new DA sideblog at @skyholdstarbucks where i'd post anything similar to this in the future
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htsan · 5 months
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Please don't insult my design of human sans in other artists' fanart of him, it's rude (in my opinion). I can't delete it myself and I don't want to ruin their fun.
I can take the insult but I'll still be a tiny bit upset LUL. I'll talk about why because this has been on my mind, I have a desperate need to be heard over this I don't know why.🤔
Human Sans (at least in my eyes/intention P.S I do not care if artist' follow my intention or vision) is half based off a close friend I had a thing for, other students called her ugly and called her a pig for her looks. I never understood why they were so cruel.
She 'looked' obese, yet I ate more than her. Hell, she was healthier than me. (Even if she wasn't healthy it's not an excuse)
She had pretty cheeks and nice eyes that I can't quite replicate in the realistic version lol. I dunno man, I think she looked pretty, I can't be attracted to anyone until I get a super close connection.
The comic where kids insulted Sans was mostly not over exagerrated, those kids who said those were literally word for word what I remembered as a kid. The part that was made up is Sans defending himself. She stayed quiet, plus she wasn't a hotdog vendor lol. We were eating lunch together in front of a ping pong table when we heard that.
So yes, it does sting seeing those insults again. Especially towards other artists who draw fanart of him. Dude, why?
But it pales in comparison with the nice compliments and fanart and love. Shout out to @majorpatheticcas @spookyflavors all the fanart, like I know I don't say it much, but seriously, it means the world. I come back often to see all your art of him (and classic/horror) UUUU. And @n01r-kn1ght for the comic of human sans like.. seriously thank you.
But wether this was based off a girl I was gay for or not, is irrelevant. Insult him and others you'd probably have a blocked time.
I love criticism, discussion, but not insults. I love discussion/making discussion because I want artists to know I pay attention to their work, the details and that they are heard. I want to say that I will patiently await for their newer content whenever they do decide to share.
YOU don't know what kind of things strangers put into their artwork. Maybe human Sans reminds fan artists of themselves.
Maybe that cringy art work a kid made meant the world to them.
Maybe that doodle a 40 yr old made on a tired night after work made them have warmth in the life they have.
I want human Sans or WHATEVER I made, to mean something to people in their own ways. like I did with mine. Hell you can black wash my version of human Sans, even if I hc him as a Asian I. DON'T. CARE.
(He looks white bc ppl think he has blue eyes in idling state. Also it is VERY hard to make him have tiny eyes, while his canon look he has the hugest eyes you've ever seen, HIS EYESHAPE IS THE BIGGEST IN THE ENTIRE DAMN UNDERGROUND, but whatever- skill issue on my part, but I don't care abt skill issue here, bc I and others are doing this for freeeeee)
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cheshirecatuniverse · 3 months
Text
If Yamato's and Hyuga's little sisters snuck into Oya
Featuring: Yamato, Cobra, Hyuga, Fujio, Todoroki, Tsukasa, Jamuo, Yasushi
Notes: Post-Murayama Graduation. NOT EDITED.
Yamato's Baby Sister ->
Yamato's little sister is the toughest kid in daycare. You need someone to stomp a spider? She's on it. You need someone to pick up two chairs instead of one? She's the first one there.
So when she was having a play date with her friends from daycare, they were told that sneaking into the delinquent high school was the scariest and coolest thing other kids from daycare have been dared to do.
When Yamato's little sister learned that kids that had bragged going into Oya had only stepped foot in high school for only a couple of minutes, it was a call for a challenge.
"Excuse me," A small voice came out of thin air. Yasushi looked back and forth but saw absolutely no one. He swore he saw everyone leave the gymnasium after the fight with Kiyoshi and some other guy from the Chun-Chun faction.
Oh no. Was Jamuo actually telling the truth, that their high school was haunted-?
"Hello?" Something tugged the fabric of his pants. Yasushi was never so relieved when he looked down before reacting, he would have felt so bad for kicking the little girl in front of him.
He squatted down and looked at her for a long moment.
Yasushi scratched his head, "Um. Where did you come from?"
She blinked, "My mommy."
"That's not- Okay, never mind."
The little girl looked down at her shoes, tapping them together. "Uh.. I don' think 'm supposed to be here."
"Makes two of us." He jabbed a hand at her, "I think I should take you to someone that can help."
Yasushi took her down the hallways, and to her benefit, they didn't seem so scary anymore now that she wasn't alone!
Except she kinda got scared when a couple of guys came barreling down, not stopping for anything, and Yasushi had swiped the small child into his grasp before she got stomped on.
Finally, he found someone some-what responsible, Todoroki... as well as Fujio.
"Yasushi. Why do you have a baby on you?" Todoroki said trying not to sound startled.
"Nuh-uh not a baby, I'm turning five!" She pouted.
"Duh, Todoroki." Fujio crossed his arms and shook his head, "She's turning five."
She nodded very happily.
"She just popped out of nowhere. Y'know what? Maybe she's the ghost Jamuo saw here last month," Yasushi nudged the top of her head with the end of his finger. She looked up at him, almost like an exhuasted adult, as he treated her head like a bobble head.
Todoroki kicked him away, while Fujio crouched down to approach her.
Fujio smiled and patted her head, "Your mom must be worried sick. Do you know her phone number?"
She shook her head to all the guys' dismay, "No... and Mommy can't pick me up!"
"Why not?" Todoroki sighs.
"Mommy works. Yamato picks me up."
"Who's Yamato?" Fujio asks.
"My big brother!" She beams and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket. The two stick figures were her and her brother, she explained and babbled. Fujio and Yasushi both try to examine the drawing, trying to see if they can recognize anything familiar from the drawing.
While the two idiots looked closely at the child drawing, she sat with Todoroki, trying to get answers that would help.
"Do you know your address?"
"No!" She said while scribbling on a new sheet of paper Todoroki found for her.
"Okay, maybe you remember signs you've seen? Stores or restaurants you go to?"
"Oh!" She nodded and started to babble again, "Itokan! Naomi makes me yummy food and and and Cobra shares shakes with me. Strawberry shakes! Cause Yamato is a meanie... He don't like to share."
Todorki put his hands in face and cursed loud enough for Yasushi and Fujio to hear. The girl just giggled in her hands, kicking her legs back and forth.
She didn't really notice the panicked whispers and possible strangling noises as she drew her little drawings on the papers on the barely standing desk.
If this was high school, then high school is weird.
Todoroki managed to get a response from Murayama via text. Cobra's number as per requested, and reluctantly, he dialed it.
While that was happening, the little girl gave Yasushi a cat drawing with really pointy teeth and Fujio a dog with a big smile on it.
"Yamato!" She ran across the classroom and jumped right into his arms.
Yamato sighed, saying her name in clear exasperation, but held onto his sister tightly.
"Cobra!" She waved over Yamato's shoulders.
Cobra was busy taking in the situation, looking at the worn-down classroom for any suspicious activity. But it seemed that Todoroki was honest on the phone. She really did wander here on her own.
"Are you okay? Do you know what I've been doing all day? Looking for you, everyone was looking-" Yamato glared and held her up to get better look at her. She was covered head to toe in dust, her shoes turned grey and even her jeans torn a little on the bottom.
"Why are you dirty- why is she dirty?" Yamato stared down at his sister's (assumed) captors. "What the hell did you do to her?"
Cobra put a hand at his shoulder, trying to prevent him from doing anything serious.
"WHAT? She was like that wh-" Todoroki jammed a fist into Yasushi stomach to make him shut up. Meanwhile, Fujio put on his best customer service smile as his brain was racking for a suitable answer.
"Yamato, Yamato," She tugged on the collar of his shirt. "I was super sneaky. I went under the fence. I'm a spy! But, But, then they found me."
In a much gentler tone, he asked, "Pipsqueak, Did they hurt you?"
"Nuh-uh." She pointed at Yasushi, "He helped me! I was a little scared. But I like it here, they like my drawings! Can we come back Yamato??"
Still lurched over, recovering from Todoroki's punch, he rasped out, "...It's true."
Exhausted, Yamato rubbed his eyes and muttered under his breath, "I swear to god, this is the third time."
Fujio tried to offer the rest of paper they found for her to take with her but Yamato crumbled it up and threw it away. Before they left Todoroki got an angry looking cat drawing from Yamato's little sister and a subtle nod of acknowledgement from Yamato.
Cobra was the only who said "Thank you" and to "Not cause too much trouble."
Cobra turned around to look at Fujio, "Murayama said you were the best choice for Oya High. You better hope he's right."
Hyuga's Little Sister ->
• Hyuga's little sister is a problem solver. Her teacher says she applies logic well but her antics were a bit much.
• She currently was going through a bit a of a stubborn phase. When Hyuga said they were having miso soup for dinner but she wanted pasta. When Hyuga said not to stay up too late, she wanted to watch a movie right before bed. When Hyuga said she wasn't allowed to have spray paint because "You have crayons like a normal child."
• But to Hyuga's little sister crayons were so last season and she wanted her poster for her school project to look cool. When they drove by Oya High one time the spray paint looked so much better than markers and crayons.
The fifth time Hyuga said 'No' made her get on a train and end up at Oya High. She snuck into an open window (it was actually just broken).
She wandered around until she found spray paint bottles hanging around. She found the jackpot in an empty room, and this room actually had a door! She took all the spray paints and went further into the school to find more.
"What are you doing?"
She didn't flinch or jump when she got caught. She was busy standing on a desk, reaching for a can of spray paint on the shelf and successfully stuffing it in her backpack.
This room didn't have a door like the previous one. She was just about to move out of the room before this blonde guy came around.
"I'm busy. Shoo Shoo," She gestured, shooing him away.
"Are you stealing?" Tsukasa said, tilting his head at the stuffed backpack.
"No..." She pouted and crossed her arms, avoiding his eyes.
Tsukasa sighed and looked at the ceiling, thinking. "Okay, how about this? You tell me what you're doing here, and I can try to help."
"Big brother didn't wanna buy me spray paint..." She huffed again. "I don't wanna use crayons for my project."
"Does your brother go to Oya?"
"No," She shook her head and sat down, "He's older."
Then she realized she didn't know how to exactly get home.
Tsukasa asks, sitting on top of the desk across from her, "Do you know where you live? Your Mom and Dad must be really worried."
She seemed to get even smaller at his words. ".. I don't have a Mommy and Daddy. Only big brother."
"Oh," Tsukasa looked a little lost. He almost apologized but cleared his throat and smiled, "That's okay. So your big brother takes care of you, right? He must want to know where you are."
"But he might get mad," She frowns, hugging her backpack. She snuck out of school early to do this. Her brother must have been going crazy when Sakyo and Ukyo came home to tell him she was gone.
"He won't get mad," Tsukasa shakes his head, "I think he'll be happy to know you're okay."
He successfully managed to get her to agree to come with her on the rooftop. Tsukasa gave her a rubix cube he found on one of the couches for her to fiddle on while he went to get Jamuo and Fujio.
Fujio greeted her warmly, but still she scooted into the corner of the couch and fidgeted with the rubix cube.
Jamuo and Tsukasa looked through her backpack for anything that could help them find her guardian, but no luck there.
Tsukasa called her name, and she lifted her head up. "What's your brother name?"
"I'm not allowed to say," She said.
"How come?" Fujio asked.
"Big brother said not to tell people his name."
"Fujio, Tsukasa," Jamuo called out, pulling out a pink folder out of her backpack. His hands were shaking.
Alaramed, they went over while she pulled stickers out of her sweater. Graffiti was everywhere, so she thought it would be fine to stick things on the beaten up desks and chairs.
Jamuo pulled out a piece of paper out of the folder. Fujio was confused at the site of elementary school math homework. But then Tsukasa's eyes widened with a small 'Fuck.'
It had the little girl's first name and last name. Hyuga.
Tsukasa ran his hands through his hair, "We're so fucked."
Thankfully, Hyuga's casinos had phone lines. Unfortunately, they were notified that Hyuga would be arriving soon.
Tsukasa pulled all the spray paint out of her backpack to her dismay.
"But.. you said you would help me," She frowned.
"Spray paint can be dangerous to inhale," Tsukasa
replied, clearly distracted, cause he was barely paying attention to her as he put the cans of spray paint away.
There was no point in arguing, so she sulked and looked at Jamuo, who was on his knees on the floor. He was mumbling to himself, clearly not doing so great.
She tugged at Fujio's shirt, "Does he always do that?"
Fujio smiled, friendly, collected, even though his mind was in a very different place. "No, he doesn't. He'll be fine, don't worry."
Fujio let her put her stickers on the door to the roof. Letting her talk his ear off about the Hello Kitty ones and the Lightning McQueen ones her big brother bought for her.
Hyuga's presence had all of them with the same expression, like a deer in front of headlights. You could hear a pin drop before she scuffled over to Hyuga, Sakyo, and Ukyo.
She had her hands behind her back, pouting with her big puppy eyes.
"Are you mad at me?"
"Check her," Hyuga glanced at her for a moment before looking at Fujio.
Jamuo had his back bent all the way down in a deep bow while Tsukasa couldn't make eye contact or he would start sweating.
Sakyo leaned down, hands on his knees, "You okay Lil' demon? Are you hurt anywhere?"
She nodded frantically and stuck her pointer finger out, "Paper cut."
Hyuga's face became colder, and Fujio thought they were all going to die because of a paper cut.
Sakyo whistled and shook his head, "Well that's no good." His twin handed him a band-aid and Sakyo put it on her.
"Hello Kitty," She smiled at her wrapped finger.
"Are those hers?" Hyuga looked at Fujio's face and shirt. Stickers were scattered across his shirt and his cheek and chin.
"Oh, yeah," Fujio wanted to laugh, but he just smiled stiffly, "She's a good kid."
Hyuga grunted and grabbed the pastel pink backpack Ukyo handed to him. He looked down at his sister, "Did they try to steal you?"
"No, I got lost," She was using her best puppy dog eyes so he wouldn't get mad, "They gave me toys!" She stuck out her hand with the rubix cube.
Hyuga looked at the Oya students for a long time, then at the twins, and then at his sister. He gave her his hand before telling her, "We're leaving."
Just as he reached the rooftop entrance, he looked at Fujio, "Just because I made the sword alliance with Murayama, doesn't mean I made it with you. Remember that."
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